


Payment in Kind

by jonsasnow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, PTSD, Post-Civil War, Sort of AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonsasnow/pseuds/jonsasnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam and Bucky get it into their heads that they know what's best for Steve's love life, he finds himself retreating to a safe place, but it's less of a place and more of a person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> So I have never written anything in the MCU before so I really hope I get the characterisations somewhat right. In any case, I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> And please let me know what you think! 
> 
> <3

Now it was a little-known fact to most if not all of the Avengers that Sam Wilson did not like James Buchanan Barnes, nor did the other man like him. They were two men cut from completely different cloths and it didn’t help that Bucky had tried to kill Sam on more than one occasion. He supposed that he should, like the other Avengers, forgive Bucky as the events of DC happened over three years ago, but he was holding a grudge. He knew he was doing it out of spite more than any actual animosity towards the man but Bucky had a way of grating on his nerves, even more than Stark, or Vision when he was taking things too literal. There was nothing anyone could do about it and they had all resigned to leaving the two as they were.

There _was_ one simple thing that united both Sam and Bucky, and that was Steve. For two men who could hardly stand to be in the same room as one another, Sam and Bucky often found themselves descending into a companionable silence as they watched Steve.

“Can you stop breathing so loud? I can’t hear myself think.”

 _Almost_ companionable silence.

Sam pointedly breathed louder. “No.”

He could hear Bucky shift away from him by the scraping sound of the aluminium chair on the linoleum floor. “Jackass,” he heard the Winter Soldier mutter under his breath. That made the edges of Sam's lips quirk upwards in a smirk, but so infinitesimal was the movement, it went by unnoticed by the other man. 

The momentary interruption ended and the two continued in silence to scrutinise Steve. They watched as their sat by himself in the mess hall, occasionally offering a smile for those that greeted him but even from this distance, Sam and Bucky could see that the smile never quite reached his eyes. While the two men had never spoken out loud about it, they were both thinking the same thing; their captain, their mutual best friend, was lost and had likely been for ninety odd years. For a while the Avengers had been enough for Steve - them and having Bucky back in his life, no longer a threat or a loose cannon - but eventually, even that ceased to fully revitalise the American hero.

It was the death of Peggy Carter just close to four months ago that had really pushed Steve back to his old ways; to the person he had been before he found Bucky - that man that served aimlessly without a cause, lost in a time that wasn't his. Since Peggy's death, it was as if a light had gone out behind those blue eyes, only showing the barest hint of a glimmer when they were out on missions or hanging around the base.

Even Bucky, who was as antisocial and broody as they came, had more of a social life than Steve; although Sam still had yet to figure out where the hell Bucky went every Sunday morning. He’d ask but that would require speaking to the man above what was already necessary in the line of duty.

“You know it’s really creepy when you two do that, right?” Natasha said and came to sit on Sam’s left. She turned the chair so it was facing them rather than the mess hall. “Are you two in love with him or something? Because if so, now’s the time to come clean.”

Both Sam and Bucky snorted in unison, which only caused them to glare at one another.

“You’re telling me you’re not worried about him then?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I’m always worried about our captain. Have been since we hauled his ass out of that block of ice.” The mention of Steve’s previous frozen condition made Bucky flinch and Sam, finding it curious, made a mental note of that. “But I’ve exhausted every option. I’ve forced him out, I’ve given him space and you know I thought it’d get better when he got you back,” she looked pointedly at Bucky as if to accuse him of Steve's state, “but it's as if he’s relapsing.”

“Ain’t no _if_ about it, Nat,” Sam said with a heavy sigh. “Cap _is_ relapsing. He’s throwing himself into the job again. I mean if I didn’t know any better I’d think there was another Winter Soldier out there he’s looking for.” Sam looked at Bucky then. “Is there another? Like maybe a Summer Soldier or a Spring Soldier?”

Bucky snorted, not with amusement but with irritation. “No.” He then looked to Natasha. “He has been getting worse since Peggy’s death.”

She nodded. Of course the redhead would know this; Sam wouldn’t be surprised if she had been the first to pick up on the signs. She was not only an extremely skilled agent with the uncanny ability of reading people but she was as attuned to the captain as Sam and Bucky were. If not more.

“He’s lonely,” Natasha said with a touch of sadness and something else Sam couldn’t quite grasp to the edges of her words. “I’ve tried to set Steve up with women in the past but he’s rejected all of them. I thought at the time it was on account of Peggy, like being with another woman would betray her somehow.” She sighed and moved her chair back to its original position to look at the man in question. “When she died though, I really think he lost a big chunk of who he was. He's been using her as a crutch for years. I don’t think he knows how to move on.”

“So you’re saying Steve just needs to find a new girl?”

Natasha looked horrified by Sam’s question and he shrugged sheepishly at her disapproval. “That was _not_ what I was saying. I’ve tried that, remember?”

“No, you were saying that _I_ should set Steve up with someone,” Sam’s mind was already racing through the possibilities of women. “Someone who can help him move on.”

Natasha opened her mouth to protest but Bucky, who had remained silent throughout the past couple of minutes, beat her to it. “And _you_ think you’re the one who will find Steve the perfect dame?”

“Yes, of course I am. Who else will?”

It hadn’t been meant as a challenge but by the dark look Bucky was sending his way, the man clearly took it as such. Either that or he wanted to kill Sam again.

“You don’t know Steve like I do,” Bucky gritted his teeth, and here they were again, playing the 'who did Steve love more game: Bucky or Sam?' Though he was not so childish that he would _actually_ fight for the attention of another grown man, Sam would be damned if he let Bucky win _anything_.

“And you don’t know women like I do,” Sam returned.

“I’ve dated lots of women.”

“In this decade, grandpa.”

Bucky growled.

And that was how Natasha came to witness the most absurd competition to ever take birth in the Avengers headquarters - and that in itself was saying something when Tony Stark occasionally resided here.


	2. A Safe Space

If stripped from her powers, Wanda highly doubted that she would have noticed the change in Steve over the past few months. So heavily was she lost in her own mind most of the time that she would never have picked up on anyone else’s turmoil. With her powers, however, Wanda _felt_ Steve’s change more than she noticed it.

At first, it had been so quiet, like a whisper in a crowded room. Wanda had for a moment believed she had fabricated the entire thing but one look into his eyes, she had known that it was real. 

They had been returning from a routine mission in Rosario, Argentina. The hangar of the jet was quiet with Natasha at the helm and Clint keeping her company. Stark and Rhodey had flown back ahead of them and Vision had accompanied Thor back to Asgard a month or so back, so it left only Sam, Bucky, Steve and her in the back. Everyone appeared to be asleep but with her birthday coming up, the one she once shared with Pietro, Wanda found sleep to be ever more elusive. She was lost in her own thoughts, trying to recall her twin’s laughter but finding only frustration and grief when she could not, when she first felt it. For two years Wanda had lived with her grief and the guilt that she had survived and not Pietro or the hundreds of lives lost in Sokovia that day, so the swirl of emotion that formed around her was familiar. But on the quinjet that day, Wanda felt something new. Still grief, still anguish, still frustration, but they were no longer her emotions. 

At first it was merely a nudge but it was enough to draw Wanda out of her own thoughts, and then as her powers expanded, it came down on her like a torrent. She turned, looking for the source of such pain, when his blue eyes locked on hers. In that second, Wanda wondered if this was what it was like when people looked into her own eyes, but then the captain had quickly pulled back his emotions and the feeling disappeared. 

She didn’t feel his grief again for at least another four months. Wanda suspected that Steve was purposefully keeping his figurative shield up around her, more so than he does with anyone else because he knows that she could feel it. She would feel relief, normally, because trying to navigate her way through other people’s emotions was taxing on her own, but with him, she found herself trying to seek him out with her powers, only enough to taste the air around him, never enough to actually pry. Wanda had promised him years ago that she would never prod someone’s mind unless invited to with permission again. He had given her a chance above all reason, trusted her inexplicably, and so Wanda had very little intention of breaking that promise now. 

It didn’t stop her concern. It didn’t stop her from projecting that concern towards him. 

But Steve was Steve. Private, focused and impenetrable. If he felt her concern, he didn’t comment, and if he noticed the looks the other Avengers have been giving him, he didn’t comment either. 

Wanda sometimes felt bad for him. She had once been on the receiving end of those looks when the pain of losing her twin was still so fresh on her mind and the events of Sokovia still so fresh on everyone else’s mind. Now after Peggy Carter’s death, Steve was the poor broken soul that people wanted so desperately to fix. Wanda might have been in that category if she thought meddling in his life would help, but it never did. 

So eventually, Wanda forgot. It was selfish of her and awful, and she did care about Steve, _a lot_ , but any anniversary that revolved around her twin always managed to trap her inside her own mind. This anniversary was the worst one of all. It was the anniversary of his death, and she was not only mourning the loss of the other half of her soul but she was also mourning the loss of her home and the lives of her people. They may have saved many that day but they didn’t save enough, not for Wanda. 

With a day off, Wanda had retreated into her sanctuary. It was a little corner in the therapeutic garden Stark had installed for those really bad missions. She didn’t care for the garden itself as she couldn’t quite connect with it in the way it was meant for but just past the trees, there was a little alcove in the tall shrubbery where the gardeners must have forgotten to clear. Inside was an old bench, discoloured from the years it’s seen, and facing it was a wall laced with overgrown vines. 

There, Wanda could find peace. She could give into her pain without the worry of what her powers could do to anyone who happened to be unfortunate enough to walk into her field. Today, she let it loose. She could feel it expanding all around her small alcove. Wanda tried to keep it from going beyond, knowing that if anyone were to walk by the garden, they would surely notice the scarlet mist and that would be the end of her sanctuary, but today, try as she might, Wanda’s control was faltering. Four months ago, she couldn’t quite recall her brother’s laughter, but now, she couldn’t even recall his voice. How could she let that get away from her? Would four months from now see her forgetting what he looked like too? 

Red mist swirled around her, gaining speed like a mini tornado, and the sheer force of it billowed her long dark hair around her face. She was so consumed in her self-loathing that she didn’t notice him at first, and like before, Wanda _felt_ him before she saw him. 

His grief wasn’t quite as apparent and unguarded as it had been on the quinjet those many months ago, but as Steve’s concern pushed against her own scarlet shield, she tasted the familiar pain on the edges of that concern. It was that that broke her out of her own mind, or what Pietro would call, ‘her prison’. 

“It is almost that day,” he was kneeling before her and she looked into his blue eyes. “Isn’t it?” 

It didn’t surprise her that Steve would remember. She knew he burdened those deaths on his shoulders far more than he should.

“I know the grief never truly leaves,” he continued after Wanda refused to answer. “But you can’t shut down every time this happens. It’s not healthy.” 

The turbulent winds of scarlet abruptly stopped and everything it had caught in its gust was suspended mid-air as Wanda scowled darkly into Steve’s eyes. “That is rich,” she spoke softly but her words were no less firm than if she had shouted them at him, “coming from _you_.” 

Steve blinked back his surprise and he stood up, taking three paces to distance himself from her. “Wanda,” he said but no other words followed her name. The last thing Wanda had wanted was confront Steve about his grief. It was not her business to confront him. She cared - no one could deny the witch’s loyalty and admiration for her captain - but she had felt that to lecture Steve about moving on would make her a hypocrite, so to hear him say those words had snapped something inside of her. 

“You cannot come into my space and tell me,” Wanda breathed heavily, “tell me to just - you just can’t! I’m not a child, Steve. And here, in this place, I am not your soldier.” 

“I know,” he sighed, running one hand through his blond hair. “God, I know.” He looked pained and she could feel his regret expanding towards her. It pushed against the red that was still casted around them until the twigs and rocks her powers had frozen in the air dropped to the ground. Wanda glanced at the fallen debris then back up at her captain. She kept her features neutral but the shock ran through her body at what had just happened. No one’s emotions had ever managed to penetrate her powers, let alone force them to withdraw in such a way. She didn’t know what to make of it and she didn’t want Steve to know about it either.

He approached slowly, like someone approaching a wounded predator; Wanda wouldn’t be surprised if he lifted his hands, palms facing her, to show that he came in peace. When he finally settled in the seat beside her, he apologised. “I guess you’re right. I’m hardly the person to lecture you on shutting people out, am I?” Wanda shook her head. “I’m sorry. For me, you have to understand, the team comes first and to see any one of you in this amount of pain and so often too, I can’t help myself but worry.” 

“Even Stark?” Wanda asked with a wry smile on her lips. 

Steve laughed. It was short but the sound was no less relieving for her to hear. She smiled even more at his response. “ _Even_ Stark.” 

For a moment, neither spoke, the faint traces of a smile on both their lips, but then Wanda decided to break it. “It is who you are.”

“Pardon?” Steve looked confused and that made Wanda smile again. 

“You caring, you meddling, you being _annoying_ ,” she said. “That’s just who you are. You’re our captain. Your heart is so big sometimes I wonder how you can carry it inside your chest.” 

Steve laughed again and this time it was a long, full-belly laugh. Wanda could feel his amusement tickling her bare arms, like a feather against her skin. When it subsided, Steve looked at her, the faint glimmer of his old self in his bright blue eyes.

“I haven’t laughed like that in a really long time.”

“I know,” Wanda said. “I haven’t felt _this_ in a really long time.” 

Steve looked perplexed and he tilted his head towards her. “What do you mean?” 

“You know my powers, yes?” He nodded. “Sometimes I don’t need to penetrate people’s mind to feel their emotions. Sometimes if the feeling is strong enough, I can feel it, and you, your emotions, I feel them all the time now and I haven’t felt you laugh like that in too long.”

The perplexity was still there but he nodded nonetheless. “What do my emotions feel like?”

Wanda bit her lip. She didn’t want to upset him but she didn’t want to lie either. “Like my skin is being dragged along gravel.” 

The horror that flashed through Steve’s eyes pained Wanda. She knew without having to feel it that her captain was now piling on the guilt, as if he had any control over how Wanda’s powers manifested themselves. She nudged him softly with her shoulder. 

“Steve, you can’t control your emotions or my powers any more than I can. Please don’t burden yourself with this. Gravel is a far better feeling than…” She paused and left the sentence hanging, not wanting to have to describe to him what her own grief and pain felt like. It was far worse; that was all he needed to know. 

He nodded but she doubted he would let it go so easily. This was Steve Rogers; the man was the modern day’s Atlas. “What did my, um, laughter feel like?” 

She smiled. “Actually, it _tasted_ like the sea.” 

“What?” 

Wanda laughed. “The air around me, when you laughed, it tasted salty like I was in the ocean, or on a beach.” 

Steve shook his head and laughed again. She missed this sound. Though she still found him smiling and joking with Sam and Bucky, the light had slowly disappeared from him over the past few months, but hearing him laugh right now reminded her of that Steve and she wished she could bring him back for good. 

“Thank you for this, Wanda,” he said as he stood up. “I really… You know when I saw the red mist, I came out here to help _you_ , but it’s funny because you ended up being the one to help me instead.” He smiled down at her. “So thank you again.” 

“It is okay,” she smiled back. For a second, Wanda was happy to leave their conversation as it was, but as Steve turned away to leave her little alcove, she couldn’t help blurting out, “wait! Steve?” 

“Yeah?” he glanced back. 

“You did help me,” Wanda said. “And if you ever wanted to come back here, you can. Just - please just don’t tell anyone about this place, okay?” 

Steve smiled, winked then saluted at her, “you got it, Ma’am,” before exiting her sanctuary altogether. Wanda remained in her spot for a couple of minutes before she too left, and in a much better mood than when she had entered. 

\-----

A week had passed since Steve encountered Wanda in that small hidden section of the garden and try as he might, he couldn’t hold onto the feeling he had when he was there. Soon, all that remained was the empty, hollow ache that he was now coming to accept as a constant companion. People continued to assume that he was grieving Peggy’s death, and while he was, it was not so simple as mere loss. Steve had lost Peggy a long time ago, back when he first drove that plane into the ocean. Her death merely reaffirmed what he already knew; he was a man lost in time and now he had outlived his greatest love. 

It did ease the ache to have Bucky back in his life. Without his best friend, his _brother_ , Steve couldn’t imagine the kind of rudderless life he would be leading now, but Bucky was going through his own issues. Hydra had done a number on his psyche and to further encumber him with Steve’s nonsense wouldn’t help either of them find their way. The mere presence of the other was only enough to anchor them to this decade but it was not enough to propel them to the next. They were both lost in their own ways. 

Which was why Steve had agreed to one of the stupidest things he’d done in a long time: a date. 

For some inexplicable reason, Bucky had approached him four days ago about a woman he had met on base. She was an IT genius who Stark had hired to do some routine check-ups. The man would do it himself but according to Nat, he thought the task too beneath him. Nevertheless, when Bucky approached Steve about this blind date, he could hardly refuse. He had never seen his best friend in this lifetime look so excited about something. 

If only Steve was that excited too. On the contrary, he had been dreading this date all week. 

Sitting opposite him was a quiet and mousy woman, who kept fidgeting with the napkin on her lap. Steve felt sorry for her. When Bucky had promised her a date, he probably shouldn’t have kept who Steve was out of the equation. He knew he made women nervous and he felt more than guilty for making her so out-of-sorts.

“Are you sure you don’t want dessert?” Steve asked politely. 

“No!” she squeaked only to then flush brilliantly red. “I mean… no. I’m just… I have this… I have an early morning.” 

“Okay,” Steve nodded in understanding. The lie was more than just evident but he didn’t press her on it. Truth be told, he was pleased that the date was ending so fast. He just wanted to go home now. 

Still, ever the gentleman, Steve walked her to her car and stayed to watch till the black sedan disappeared from the parking lot of the restaurant. With a great sigh, Steve made his way back to his own car and relished the quiet of the drive back to base. He had every intention of sneaking off to his room before any of the other Avengers could spot him, but it had been naive of him to hope that tonight would end just like that. 

“Steve! You’re back!” Sam was the first to spot him and the man quickly jumped from the couch to pull him inside the Avengers’ recreational area. “Look, Bucky, Steve’s back.” Sam tilted his head back and laughed. “And it’s not even 9 o’clock!” 

Bucky threw Sam a dark look. “Means nothing. How did the date go?” 

“She was nice,” Steve said politically. “And she had really nice eyes.” 

“That means she was boring and she was _ugly_ ,” Sam interjected with another uproarious laugh. 

This time it wasn’t Bucky to scowl, it was Steve. “I did not say she was ugly,” he said. “She was a perfectly attractive woman.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “She was just… We just didn’t click.” He turned to his oldest friend. “I know you tried so thank you.” 

“I told you, you didn’t know women!” 

Sam was still laughing and that only deepened the groove between Bucky’s brows. Steve didn’t stick around to witness what he could already tell was going to be an argument between Sam and Bucky and so he quickly returned to his room.

\-----

The minute Steve left the recreational area, Bucky braced himself. 

At his core, he had never truly been a violent man. He had enlisted in the war partially for the glory and partially out of a duty to his country. What had transpired after had been Hydra’s doing, though that was something Bucky still had a hard time grasping, but after thousands of hours of therapy, he had learned to accept at least to a small degree that Bucky had had no control over his own mind and body when he killed and hurt those people. It wasn’t a full acceptance and the guilt and self-loathing was still apart of his life, but Bucky was at least starting to see the light amidst the fog. 

So when Sam started to speak, the urge to punch him was somewhat uncharacteristic for the normally mild-mannered man. 

“Honestly, I can’t believe you thought Laura would be a good fit for Steve,” Sam laughed. “She’s so flighty, she’d run if you made any sudden move around her. I’m surprised she even talked to you, to be honest, considering your reputation.”

Bucky glowered. “Laura is a nice lady and she doesn’t know who I am so we had a very pleasant conversation.” 

“Ah, well that explains it,” Sam snorted and then turned from Bucky. He went to sit on the couch, settling into his previous position before Steve had returned from his date. Bucky was tempted to slip away to his own room but for an entirely inexplicable reason, he followed. 

“If you’re so arrogant then why haven’t you set Steve up with someone then?” Bucky asked. He was wearing a challenging smirk on his face that was more reminiscent of the pre-WWII Bucky than the one the other Avengers had come to know. “You know what I think? You’re all talk and no follow through.” 

“It’s all talk and no game,” Sam corrected and then leaned back, stretching out his arms along the back of the couch. “And don’t worry, I have the perfect girl in mind for our captain.” 

“I’m not worried,” Bucky said, the smirk faint but still present. “I have over a hundred years of intel on you. Why should I be worried?” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Because you’re _you_. When was the last time you were on a date with anyone?” 

_September 4th, 1944._

It was the last time Bucky had been in the States with the rest of the Howling Commandos. It was the last time he had openly flirted with a dame and taken her dancing. Come to think of it, Bucky reckoned it was the last time he had really kissed anyone. After that, Bucky’s love life had hardly been a considered topic amongst the Hydra uppers. He had been used only for one purpose and once that had been fulfilled, he was locked up, hidden away from the world, like the weapon that he was. 

Sensing the sudden shift, Sam backtracked. “Look, man, I didn’t mean to -” he waved his hands around awkwardly. “Dating is overrated anyways. It’s not like we’d have time with saving the world every day, right?” He laughed and then stretched his arms when Bucky didn’t reply. “It’s getting late. I should, uh - get some sleep. See you in training tomorrow. Oh seven hundred on the dot.” 

With a simple nod, Sam left and Bucky found himself alone in the room, the TV lights flashing across his face and a show he wasn’t really watching playing in the background. 

It had never mattered before, yet the realisation that Bucky hadn’t been on a date in seventy-four years was a troubling one. _Should_ he be worried? 

\-----

The anniversary of Pietro’s death had come and passed. Wanda didn’t remember much of it but there was a mangled chair lying in the corner of her room. How it came to be that way was beyond her and she didn’t dare ask any of the Avengers about it. The last thing Wanda needed any of them to know was her struggle to control her powers. She knew it made her a risk but she had taken precautions to ensure she was never in such a state during missions, and considering Steve never assigned her to anything that fell around her birthday or Pietro’s anniversary, the problem never came up. 

The exhaustion and insomnia that always followed those episodes, however, was something Wanda knew she would eventually have to confide in her captain about. She would be returning to her first mission soon and she couldn’t afford to be in anything but perfect condition. Her team relied on her to protect them, to have their backs, and if she was off her game - well, the thought of any of the Avengers falling to injury because of her only filled her with dread. 

Sometimes a walk around the base did help calm her mind. The dimming quiet of the people as they readied for the following day was always soothing, like tendrils of plush, soft cotton, massaging away at the edges of anxiety around her. It was the normalcy that she liked; the reminder that life moved on. It was often a luxury that people in America forgot about. In Sokovia, there was a far better likelihood that Wanda would die in her sleep than live to see a better, brighter tomorrow. The fear that so many Sokovians went to sleep with was a stark contrast to the casual acceptance Americans had that they would have another tomorrow. 

It was nice, to say the least. Far less stressful. 

Wanda was passing the recreational area when someone made her stop, or rather _someones_. Sam and Bucky to be precise.

_“And don’t worry, I have the perfect girl in mind for our captain.”_

The proclamation filled her with equal amounts of unease and equal amounts of amusement. Although she trusted Sam and even Bucky now, Wanda didn’t trust their taste in women, especially Sam’s, at least not when it concerned their captain. Steve couldn’t just date anyone; he needed someone who could understand him. Someone who appreciated order and rules but could break them all to do the right thing. Someone who was loyal to a fault. And someone who could understand pain, the kind that never truly went away, the kind that came from being displaced in a world that wasn’t really theirs. 

Considering the last woman Sam had dated and the lack of dates Bucky had been on since joining the Avengers, Wanda somehow doubted they would be able to find Steve a woman like that, but she did want to see them try, if only to see her captain squirm. There was something joyous about watching her strong and admirable captain as simply the shy and awkward bumbling man that he also was. 

Wanda would have to convince Sam to let her in on his plans. She would like very much to be there on Steve’s date. Of course in disguise and definitely without his knowledge. She didn’t think he’d appreciate it if he knew she was going to be there watching. 

At 7:45 the next morning, Wanda found herself standing beside Natasha, as the two women shook their heads at the testosterone match going on between Sam and Scott. The two men had been locked in a ‘who is the better Avenger?’ fight since the day they met. Wanda thought it was probably because Scott had taken down Sam in their first encounter and the winged hero did not take kindly to being outsmarted and outmanoeuvred by an ant. Personally, though she would never tell him this, Wanda preferred the Ant-man suit to the Falcon one. The idea of becoming so small that she could slip by anyone was appealing to a woman whose powers only seemed to terrify. 

“Where is Sharon?” Natasha questioned out loud. “I know she’s not technically an Avenger but without her, we’re completely outnumbered.” 

Wanda didn’t know the SHIELD Agent very well but Natasha’s words did ring true. “Too much testosterone is never good.” She gestured to the training mat as evidence. 

Natasha opened her mouth to speak but just then, a seemingly invisible Scott propelled Sam into the opposite wall, causing a large crack to appear in the drywall. “We seriously need to use stronger material to build this place. That’s the fifth time this week.” 

“I’ve been telling Stark that for months but he keeps putting me through to FRIDAY. I think he thinks he’s being funny,” Steve said, moving to stand beside them. “He’s not.” He smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. “How are you?” 

The contact between them had sent a current through her, jolting her powers awake, and abruptly, she could feel him again, now more pronounced than ever. Steve was concerned about her. He worried she wasn’t eating enough or sleeping enough; he wondered if there was anything he could do to help. But it were the other emotions that he pushed aside to allow that concern to surface that made Wanda jerk back. How could he be thinking about her when he was so exhausted and so worried about this next meeting with the Secretary of State? Or when there was so much loneliness in his heart that he ached constantly? It didn’t make sense and she didn’t like it. 

“I…” Steve started to say but failed to continue his thought. He stared at her, surprised and a little hurt by her aversion to him. Wanda could sense Natasha as well was surprised by her response. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not feeling well.” Wanda knew it was unprofessional of her but frankly she didn’t care. She started to back away. “I just need to lie down.” She turned and sped across the training hall, out the door then down the adjacent corridor that led out to the grounds. What she was feeling was more than Wanda could bear at the moment, even if it made little sense to anyone else and even if it made her seem like the crazy, unstable witch that everyone already thought she was. 

The truth was Wanda didn’t want to be someone’s priority, and though she knew the team was Steve’s priority and it was not her specifically, the very idea that he was putting her needs above his own made her uncomfortable. The last person to do that was Pietro and look where that got him. His death hadn’t been her fault but somehow it still was. Maybe if Wanda’s anger hadn’t consumed her, they would never have allowed Hydra to experiment on them; maybe she would have seen Ultron for what it was and maybe Pietro would still be alive. 

She knew, however, that the Avengers were her family now and she _had_ accepted that, yet Wanda could never allow anyone to care for her in that way again. It was for their own good. 

“God, I _am_ crazy,” she said out loud to herself as soon as she reached her sanctuary. The bench was cool even through her training gear but Wanda didn’t notice. She just wanted to be alone. 

“Talking to yourself is the first sign,” Steve teased as he appeared before her once again in her little alcove. He smiled but was hesitant to move any closer so he hovered by the entrance. “I’m sorry if I did or said something, I just wanted -”

“Why do you care so much?” Wanda cut him off. 

“Because you’re apart of my team and we look out for each other. Wanda, this is -”

“No, why do you care so much all the time?” she cut him off again; she wanted to understand. “About everyone? Every little thing? But you leave none of it for yourself.” 

Steve seemed stumped for an answer. He walked towards her and stopped just a couple feet shy of the bench. “May I?” Wanda nodded and he settled himself into the seat beside her. “I think… I think it’s because I’m a coward.” 

“What?” Wanda was incredulous. “You are the bravest man I have ever met!” 

“Isn’t bravery when you face your deepest fears?” Steve laughed but there was no humour now in his words. “Going out there, putting my life on the line for all of you, for the greater good? That’s not bravery. That’s the easy choice.” 

“And what is the hard choice?”

Steve sighed. “Living… I think. Finding a reason to fight… _for me_.” 

“It is the same for me too.” She smiled ruefully and placed her hand over Steve’s. As it had done before, the contact enabled Wanda to really feel his emotions and she wondered if he could feel hers too. “I am not afraid to die. Sometimes it feels almost preferable and maybe that is why I am a good Avenger… But I think I am really afraid to move on, that if I start to live, I’d forget him.” Wanda could feel his sympathy but she could also feel his relief, like he had just realised he wasn’t alone, and so she pulled her hand back, severing the connection, scared about what that could mean. Instead, she focused her gaze on the vines serpentining up the wall. “I have already forgotten his laugh. And sometimes I can hardly remember his voice.” 

Several seconds passed before Steve stood up. He turned towards her with his outstretched hand. “C’mon, I have something to show you.” 

Wanda looked up skeptically. “What is it?” 

“It’s a surprise.” 

She should have been wary. She hated surprises, but this was Steve. He was her captain and she’d follow him into a ditch if he asked. 

So she followed again, hand in his, to wherever he might lead her. 

\-----

Steve didn’t know why it had taken him this long to think of this. He should have taken her there as soon as it happened but with everything in such chaos after Sokovia, Steve had simply forgot. He had been so consumed with finding Bucky that Wanda had fallen in between the cracks and Steve regretted that. He should’ve watched out for her more; he should’ve made more of an effort to integrate her into their world.

“You know I hate surprises, right?”

Steve laughed at the witch beside him, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders, and the stubborn set of dark eyes staring back at him with curiosity, but the bizarre thing was that he could _feel_ her curiosity. It was faint but it was there. He wondered if she was doing that. 

“I know,” Steve said. “But you’ll like this. I promise.”

She made a noise of displeasure and Steve laughed again. He did that a lot around her, he was now realising. There was just something so amusing about the broody little witch.

Steve led her down several flights of stairs till they reached a control room. It wasn’t as fancy as the one that the Avengers used on the top floor, the one they used to monitor crises around the world and their people and agents whenever they went out on a mission. This one was quieter with only a few employees milling about. On the far side of the wall was a row of top of the line servers and several large monitors were attached to an adjacent wall. Steve dropped Wanda’s hand, _regretfully_ , and stepped towards the centre of the room. 

“We will just be commandeering this room for the next half hour,” Steve announced and all eyes snapped to his, with a gasp coming from somewhere in the room. “I apologise for the inconvenience but we’re here on official Avengers business so we will need total privacy. Please, if you don’t mind.”

The employees nodded and all filed out of the room one by one, till there was only Steve and Wanda left. She was staring at him now with a look of bewilderment and a pleased smile easily slid onto his lips. 

“What official Avengers business is this?” Wanda asked with one hand on her hips. 

Steve just continued to smile before he went to work on one of the computers that linked to the large monitors. Nat had shown him once before how to use it but it had been several years back and he really hoped he remembered. What an embarrassing debacle it would be if he had to call someone down to help, but finally, Steve found the folder he had been searching for. He clicked several buttons and a crackling filled the room. 

“Just watch,” Steve told her and Wanda rolled her eyes but complied. She looked up to the screens and waited. Within a second, the crackling changed and Stark’s voice filled the room, followed by Clint and then his own. They were in the old Stark Tower, discussing their plans for Sokovia and prepping themselves for the flight over but eventually, they left the room. Soon after, Pietro and Wanda walked in and that’s when Steve stopped watching the screen. He turned to look at the woman beside him and smiled as Wanda gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, and tears filled her eyes. 

“ _Pietro_ ,” she said softly and walked up to the screen, her fingers softly tracing the lines of her twin’s face. The next words from her lips were in a different language but Steve didn’t need to know it to understand. 

Steve would have been content to stay there and watch her but it was a moment that was not meant for him or anyone else. He was intruding, so he walked over and touched her gently on the shoulder. “Take as much time as you need.” 

Wanda tore her gaze from the screen to look up at Steve. The brilliant candid smile that she flashed him was all he had ever wanted for the witch. “Thank you,” she started to cry and then she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Steve.” 

Steve extricated himself from the young woman and smiled in return. “Don’t mention it.” He left her there in the room, the door clicking shut behind him just as Pietro’s laughter filled the control room. 

He knew he had to go meet the Secretary of State with Nat and Stark now but somehow Steve didn’t care. He felt lighter than he had in months.


	3. A Bit of Turbulence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than the first one but I still hope you enjoy it! :)
> 
> Thank you for reading thus far however! <3

“You’re messing with powers you can’t even begin to understand, witchy.”

Wanda crinkled her nose at the nickname but forged on ahead. “Sam, you are being dramatic. All I asked for was a location.”

“Exactly,” he waved a piece of toast in her face. “That is something you don’t need to know.”

The man seemed determine to keep his secret and Wanda knew a lost cause when she saw one, so she left the kitchen in a huff. The red mist pulsating around her like a field. It was thin and hardly visible from far away but her irritation oftentimes coaxed her powers out from within. It was harmless in the end so Wanda never bothered to contain it. 

Still, with a short glance backwards, Wanda sent a small hex towards Sam’s chair, moving it a couple inches from where it sat and causing the man to fall backwards onto the floor with a loud curse. “MAXIMOFF!” 

Wanda chuckled and quickly ran from the area. She turned a corner with every intention of interrogating Natasha for information, since the woman knew everything that happened on their base, when she walked straight into Bucky. He held her shoulders and steadied her. 

“I can help you,” he said simply. The Winter Soldier was a man of few words - she had always liked that about Bucky; she didn’t like to speak much either - so this surprised her.

“Excuse me?” 

“With your mission,” Bucky clarified. “I know the location.” 

“And what’s in it for you?” Wanda never knew anyone in this place to give up something without wanting something else in return, except maybe Steve and Vision. 

Bucky smiled. It was one of those rare unassuming smiles that he normally gave to Steve. Why Wanda was on the receiving end of it now, however remained to be seen. “You completing yours might help me with mine.”

“And what is yours?” she couldn’t help asking. 

“Top secret,” he was still smiling and Wanda found that she liked a smiling Bucky. “Here you go,” he said, handing her a piece of paper. “You didn’t get this from me.” 

“And we did not have this conversation?” 

“Yes,” Bucky said as he walked past her. 

Wanda chuckled. Trying to understand an Avenger was another one of those lost causes; she had given up many years ago and so whatever was going on with Bucky, Wanda knew better than to pry. 

The day dragged on as it always did on a Saturday. Wanda trained most of the afternoon with Vision, she saw her therapist for an hour, showered, changed, and then it was finally dusk. She walked into the recreational area to find Sam, Rhodey, and a couple other SHIELD Agents engaged in what looked to be a death match over foosball. She never understood the appeal of the table sport but it was one of those American pastimes, like baseball, that flew past her. 

Wanda walked over towards them. “Where is everyone else?”

“Stark is with Bruce in the lab,” Rhodey said but at the crinkling of Wanda’s nose, he laughed. “I guess you weren’t asking after Stark then. Well, as you know, Clint’s with the wife and kids, Nat and Sharon are on a mission. I have no idea where Bucky and Vision are but Steve’s on a date.” 

“I see,” Wanda said with a nod. Now that she knew Steve had left, it was time for her to set her mission into action. “Well, have a good night.” She was about to turn and leave when Sam caught her by the forearm. 

“Wait a second there, witchy,” he said. “Would you be turning in early have anything to do with what you asked me about earlier today?”

Wanda pretended to look perplexed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“About the location of a particular high profile target?” 

“Oh, no, no,” she said with a shake of her head. “I am just going to go read. It’s been a long day.”

Sam looked sceptical but at the jeers coming from the two SHIELD Agents that Sam and Rhodey were playing against, he let her go and returned to his game. Wanda sighed with relief and quickly found her way out to the Avengers’ garage. Natasha had taught her just over a year ago to ride a motorcycle, and though at first she had been resistant to mounting a large death machine, Wanda now relished the days and nights she could ride out into the city by herself. The speed rushed the blood to her head, while the wind tugged at her clothes, blanketing a calming sense of freedom over her. 

Climbing onto one of the motorcycles, Wanda pulled on her helmet and sped out into the night. It didn’t take her long to reach her destination, which she grunted with shame, but maybe after she was done here, she could drive out into the countryside for a couple of hours. 

Standing in front of the restaurant now, however, Wanda wondered what exactly she hoped to accomplish. Maybe Steve _was_ having a good time in there; maybe he finally found the person that could heal the wounds time had caused. If so then Wanda would feel utterly stupid for thinking she needed to come here to rescue him, but after what he did for her with Pietro, Wanda had to do _something_ for him. She knew she could never truly repay Steve for what he had given her but rescuing him from a date seemed a good step in the right direction. The trepidation she felt when Steve squeezed her shoulder good morning the other day wasn’t something she could ignore. It hadn’t been merely pre-date nerves; it was something else, like the fear of pain one had just before they were about to be hit. 

That was not the kind of mindset someone had before a date. Wanda had to save him. 

Sneaking into the restaurant, Wanda found herself a dark booth in the corner. At first, she didn’t see him, but she allowed her powers to expand slowly, keeping low to the floor, till she felt his presence three tables down from her. Immediately, the discomfort overwhelmed her. _Her poor captain_. With a small push, Wanda tried to project the calm she had just experienced on the drive over and hoped that it reached Steve. Not being able to see his face made it hard for Wanda to discern whether it had any effect but she stopped after a few seconds. She didn’t want to alert him to her person just yet. 

Surreptitiously, Wanda glanced around her booth and caught sight of the woman Steve had been set up with. She was a pretty redhead but was in one of the flashiest dresses Wanda had ever seen. It was green and red sequins all over with a plunging neckline that evidently made Steve very uncomfortable. Now, it was not an ugly dress, nor did the woman look awful in it, but considering the homely restaurant Steve had taken her to and the person that Steve Rogers was, this was clearly a horrible fit. With a hex, Wanda pushed the soup in front of the woman till it had spilled all down her dress. The shriek that came out of that woman’s mouth could be heard from the town over and Wanda flinched, feeling somewhat guilty for what she had done. 

“I’ll get you another napkin.” 

“No, no, please! I need to get home or else the stain will set and this dress cost a fortune, okay? Please.” 

“Right, um, just let me get my coat and I’ll walk you back to your car.”

“No! I mean that is not necessary, Steve. Good night.”

There was the sound of a chair being pushed back hastily then the soft din of conversation returned to the restaurant. Wanda waited one or two seconds before she sucked in a deep breath and revealed herself to Steve. 

“ _You_ did that?” he looked furious. “Wanda! What were you thinking! How did you even know I was here?” 

Wanda chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe this had been a bad idea. 

“Well?” 

“I was… I was trying to repay you back for earlier,” she said. “I knew you didn’t want to be here. I just thought I’d help save you.” She sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... I’ll just go.” 

Wanda didn’t wait for Steve to respond. She just brusquely made a beeline for the exit and stepped out into the night air, crisp and cool against her skin. 

What an idiot she was.

“Wait, Wanda,” Steve called out, his hand circling gently around her arm, as he pulled her back towards him. “I know you meant well, okay? But it’s not nice to do that, even if you did mean well.” 

“She wasn’t right for you,” Wanda said with a nonchalant shrug. “And I could sense you weren’t happy. I wanted to...” 

“What?” he pushed, his blue eyes imploring her to continue. 

“You made me so happy the other day,” she tried to explain again. “Hearing Pietro’s voice, his _laugh_ \- it was like - like for that short moment, I could remember what it was like to have my twin back. I felt whole for the first time in a long time.” Wanda inhaled deeply. “When I felt how unhappy you were about this date, I thought that maybe I could help you, like you helped me. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Steve’s hand around her loosened and then it dropped down the length of her arm till he had her hand in his. “You didn’t upset me,” he smiled gently. “Not that much.” She could feel his sincerity and Wanda smiled back at him. “And you didn’t have to go to these lengths to repay me, Wanda. You didn’t have to repay me at all. Seeing you happy that day was enough for me.” 

It was hard not to feel something shift in Steve’s emotions and she knew that her well-being was starting to become a priority for him. Wanda didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be anyone’s priority but she couldn’t pull away from him either. She owed him so much. 

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Wanda asked, surprised by her own question.

“What?” Steve tilted his head; he was clearly surprised too. 

She jerked her head to the motorcycle. “Do you want to go for a ride? You have the day off tomorrow, yes?” He nodded. “Then, c’mon.” She pulled on her helmet and mounted the bike, waiting for Steve to join her. 

“I brought my car.” 

“Leave it,” she said with a challenging smile. Steve laughed; and then, they were flying down the road, leaving the city lights for quieter paths, leaving the high-rises for miles of woodlands and the smell of fresh pine on their clothes. His arms circled her waist and the sight must have been a funny one to witness: this small woman navigating this large motorcycle with an even larger man clutching onto her. She wondered what people thought of them; she wondered if they thought they were a couple, and quietly in the back of her mind, she wondered what it’d be like if this had been _their_ date. 

\-----

_Better than ice cream._

That was what Steve was thinking when he looked at Wanda, with her hair sticking up at different angles from wearing the helmet and her cheeks pink from the biting cold. She looked better than ice cream. 

And he wondered, had she always been this beautiful? Or was she this beautiful because of the carefree smile on her lips?

Steve thought, yes, to both questions. 

“I like the quiet,” she said, without turning to look at him. Her eyes remained on the sight before them. Steve didn’t blame her. It was a stunning view. The city lights glittered like diamonds amidst the inky blank canvas below and surrounding them was miles and miles of woodlands that acted as a barrier to any other noise. The only sound for miles was the rustling of the animals nearby and the rhythmic inhale and exhale of the woman beside him. 

“We don’t get much of that at the base,” Steve said. “I can see why you’d come here for it.” 

Wanda smiled, this time glancing at him. “It’s not just that,” she sighed happily. “Here, my thoughts quieten too and there’s nothing at all inside my head.” 

“I don’t know what that’s like,” Steve laughed easily. “I tried meditating when I was brought back but I failed at it. Quite miserably too.” 

“Wow, the great and mighty Captain America actually _failed_ at something?” Wanda laughed. “I don’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it, it’s true,” Steve said. “Just don’t tell anyone, alright? I can’t have you ruining my image.” 

She snorted. “Of course.” 

For a fraction of second, they stared at one another, each with a goofy smile on their face, and then Wanda stepped forward. She looked up at him; the smile that had danced on her lips now morphed into one of doubt and caution. Steve wondered why. 

“Can I try something?” she asked quietly with both hands raised. “It won’t hurt.” 

“I trust you,” Steve said firmly. She seemed unsure of his proclamation, which surprised him. Shouldn’t she know that by now? Shouldn’t this be simply fact? It was to him. 

“Okay,” Wanda said slowly and then she inched even closer till her hands found their way to either side of his face. Steve fought the urge to lean into her palms; that’d be highly inappropriate. Off-duty or not, he was still her superior. “Relax, Steve,” she urged. He tried but with her hands against his skin, it was hard to concentrate. Truth be told, it was hard to concentrate whenever Wanda was around these days and he knew this was something that he would have to address sooner or later. He couldn’t allow for distractions in their line of work. _Steve_ couldn’t allow himself to be that distracted. He was their leader and if he lost focus for just one second, everything else could -- something pushed against his thoughts, interrupting the flow of anxiety. Every instinct his body wanted to fight it but Steve knew that it was her. Not only was she the logical explanation but there was something familiar about the force inside his mind. If Wanda could be described in a feeling then she was the soft whisper on the first morning of spring. 

And Steve allowed her to breeze through his mind like she owned the place.

The sensation was oddly alarming and oddly intimate. Steve didn’t know what to do or if he should be hiding his thoughts from her, but under Wanda’s coaxing, he allowed his mind to unfurl and gradually he began to relax. Steve closed his eyes to the new sensation, reveling in the peace that surrounded him. He could feel her around him as well and the joy she radiated was infectious. 

“ _Steve_.” 

The name rang out as if it had been spoken out loud and Steve wondered if it had. 

“ _You’re hearing my thoughts_.” 

“ _How are you doing that?_ ” he thought back, testing out this new facet to Wanda’s ability.

“ _It’s like how I can project nightmares but this time, I’m projecting my thoughts._ _I can’t hold it for long though. Even with physical contact, I can only…_ ” 

Her presence disappeared from his mind and Steve opened his eyes to see a bashful Wanda looking up at him. 

“I’m sorry if that was really weird,” she said apprehensively when he didn’t say anything. 

“No, no,” Steve shook his head and placed one hand on her shoulder. “I was just…” He exhaled loudly and laughed. “You just never cease to amaze me, Wanda Maximoff.” 

Her eyes lit up. “Really?” 

“Yes,” Steve assured her again. “I had no idea you could do that. It is truly amazing.” 

“That was how Pietro and I always knew what the other was thinking,” Wanda rushed to explain. “He wasn’t simply my brother. He was like another half of my brain - the smarter, more practical half.” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I fear it won’t ever be useable in the field though. I can only maintain a connection with someone I really…” Wanda blushed and then tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Someone I really trust.”

“I’m glad you trust me.” 

Wanda nodded before turning away from him. “I think we should head back. Before it gets too late. I am sure Sam is wondering where you are.” 

Steve didn’t want to leave just yet, but he knew she was right, so he followed her to the motorcycle and let her drive him back to the restaurant where he picked up his car. 

He considered staying out till past midnight, hoping that Sam would be asleep by the time he got back, but that was wishful thinking. The man would be expecting a debrief. 

Unfortunately. 

\-----

“Did you see that smile on his face this morning?” Sam asked as he caught up to Bucky the day after Steve’s date. “I told you I knew women.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “How do you know he was smiling because of the date?” 

“Hey man, no one smiles like that just because,” Sam said with a pointed look. “That’s the smile of a very satisfied man.” He waggled his brows and laughed uproariously at Bucky’s incredulous face. “What? You don’t think our captain has a promiscuous bone in his body?”

“No,” Bucky said finitely. “This is Steve Rogers we’re talking about here. There is no bigger gentleman than him. He would never bed someone on the first date.”

“Bed someone,” Sam shook his head. “God, I forgot how old you two are.” 

Bucky scowled. “Listen, I know Steve. He definitely did not sleep with anyone last night.” 

The Winter Soldier was unequivocally one of the most exasperating men on this base but he was right. Sam hated to admit so, and he wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but Bucky was right. Steve Rogers did not sleep with women on the first date. Frankly, Sam wondered if Steve Rogers had ever slept with a woman at all, though that was a conversation for another day. 

“Doesn’t mean he didn’t have a good time,” Sam returned after a moment’s pause. “I mean he’s _smiling_. He absolutely had a good time last night.”

“If you say so,” Bucky shrugged, seemingly unconvinced. It irked Sam how riled up he got around the other man and if the two weren’t on their way to the quinjet right now for another mission, he would be dragging Bucky all the way to their captain for a complete run-through of the date. Unfortunately, as they reached the hangar, Steve was already at the front with Natasha going over the plan. 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Scott was leaning nonchalantly against the plane’s structure. “How’s your face, Wilson? A bit bruised?” 

“How’s your jaw?” Sam retorted with a glower. The exchange, however, made Bucky laugh and Sam sent the same look towards him too, but that only seemed to make him laugh harder. 

“I feel as fresh as a daisy today,” Scott answered before stretching out his arms to prove his point. “Can’t say that bruise looks very good though. I hope it’s not _too_ sore.” 

“Hey, if you want a rematch, you got it, _Ant_ -man!” Sam started. “This time, I’ll be ready for you!” 

“I’d hate to bruise the other cheek,” Scott laughed. 

“I’ll show you a --” 

“Will you two please shut the hell up?” Natasha shouted as she stepped into the hangar. “Honestly, it’s like we recruited children into the Avengers or something.” 

“Yes, mom,” Scott murmured under his breath before he sent Sam a smirk. 

Sam would have responded but just then, Wanda came running into the hangar. Her hair was in disarray and her outfit looked like she had gotten dressed in the dark. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she said in that distinct Sokovian accent of hers. “I overslept! It will never happen again!” 

The excuse would have been unacceptable on anyone else’s lips but coming from the young witch, everyone merely stared at her in surprise. It was Steve who broke the silence. “You slept through the night?” 

She blushed, which Sam found even more peculiar than her new sleeping patterns. “Uh, yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know how that -” 

“No, that’s good, Wanda,” Steve reassured her. “Obviously, it’s not ideal on mission days but it is good you’re sleeping.” She nodded and he smiled in turn. Steve went back to join Natasha in the cockpit and Wanda turned her gaze down to her feet. That was also very peculiar. 

Sam didn’t think much of it, though, as the jet took off and they were soon flying over the Atlantic Ocean towards their next destination. He needed this time to mentally prepare. Like Steve, he had been a soldier before any of this, and there was a routine he always went through before he returned to the battlefield. It was to keep his senses sharp and prepared for whatever the enemy threw at them but mostly it kept him calm. 

However nothing could prepare them for the tropical storm overhead. The turbulent winds outside rocked the quinjet like it was a rowboat and the thunder continued to scramble their radars. 

“I’m flying blind here!” Natasha’s voice rang out in the jet. “Hello? Hello? This is Alfa Quebec Niner Three Seven Two. Come in, Wakanda.” 

“Anything?” Steve sounded panicked, though Sam couldn’t see his face. 

“I’m just getting static here,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “We’re going to have to land somewhere. I can’t fly in this weather and by the frequency of the thunder claps, we’re likely to get hit if we stay where we are. Everyone, brace yourself.” 

Sam checked his harness and looked at the faces around him. Bucky had his eyes closed but seemed unperturbed by the turbulence, whereas Scott looked ready to wet his pants. Wanda, on the other hand, was repeating something like a mantra to herself. Sam strained to listen but the words sounded foreign and he suspected it was Sokovian. 

He hadn’t been worried and maybe he should’ve been but he had unwavering faith in Natasha’s ability to keep them alive. Unfortunately, when faced with a wrathful electrical storm, the Black Widow’s capabilities might not come up to scratch. 

The quinjet started to descend far too rapidly for Sam’s liking with the speed inducing a feeling of weightlessness that was far from pleasant. He gripped the harness till his knuckles turned white and he watched with terror when Scott’s body jerked forward then backwards, his head knocking against the jet till it finally lolled to the side. Wanda, who was beside Sam, screamed as the jet struck something hard and the last thing he remembered was seeing a burst of red light. 


	4. A Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer! 
> 
> Work's been a bit hectic so I might not be able to update as often. Will deffo have one chapter per week if not more though! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it! This has been so much fun to write so far! 
> 
> And I dedicate this entire fic to Jaz for being my best and most favourite cheerleader <3

A searing pain engulfed his abdomen. Bucky clutched onto his skin as if he could douse it but by the blood gushing from the open wound, it was unlikely. He knew that his enhanced healing would kick into effect soon and the pain would subside into a dull thud, but for the time being, Bucky allowed himself a brief second of groaning and grunting.

Smoke filled his nostrils and covered his surroundings in a grey haze. In his days at Hydra, a crash landing as this would have prompted Bucky to hobble away from the wreckage in the likelihood that an enemy combatant had zeroed in on their location. The casualties of his men made little difference to the objective at hand, but lying there on the muddied ground, Bucky could only feel panic and dread coursing through him.

These people weren’t casualties. These people were his friends, his brothers and sisters in arms; his _family_. 

“Steve!” he shouted as he pushed himself up to a standing position. His wound now perfectly healed, Bucky tried to push through the smog. “Sam! Can anyone hear me?”

The beat of silence felt like a lifetime for Bucky but when he heard the call of his oldest friend, Bucky exhaled with relief.

“Over here!” 

Bucky rushed towards the voice, dodging broken pieces of debris that had come off from the quinjet. He found Steve just on the other side, looking a little worse for wear, but in one piece. He was supporting the weight of a banged up Natasha. 

“Are you okay?”

She waved it off. “Fine. I don’t know how but I’m fine.” 

“Do you know where the rest of the team is?” Steve asked immediately, his eyes darting around them. Bucky shook his head. “We have to find them. We have to move everyone to safety. Who knows when the jet is going to explode.” 

Bucky nodded, glad to have a task to complete, and went to work. He walked around the fallen jet while Steve and Natasha went the other way. At first the smoke was so thick that he could hardly see anything beyond a few feet in front of him but eventually it began to thin the further he moved down the length of the jet. 

“We found Scott!” shouted Steve, which meant Sam and Wanda were still missing. Again, the feeling of dread overwhelmed him. Sometimes he wished he didn’t care so much about these people but Bucky knew he would rather the heaviness in his chest than the apathy of his former life. At least it meant he was alive. 

Finding nothing on this side of the jet, Bucky was ready to turn around when movement beyond the trees caught his eye. He pulled a serrated knife from its buckle at his ankle and walked warily forwards. As he neared the trees where he had spotted the movement, he found Sam and Wanda instead, though relief was not the emotion that rushed to mind. 

“She’s breathing,” Sam assured him and Bucky exhaled slowly. “But she’s not moving.” 

“And you?” 

Sam turned towards Bucky with a strange look. “ _I’m_ fine. It’s Wanda we need to worry about.” 

It was typical that the other man would make worrying about him a source of irritation. Bucky sighed and turned. “I’m going to get Steve.” 

Within minutes, the Avengers had relocated to a safe distance from the wreckage with Wanda in Steve’s arms. He placed her carefully on the jungle floor, taking great care not to jostle her. Bucky didn’t know the Sokovian all that well, having only spoken to her once or twice, but they often shared moments of amicable silence that he always enjoyed. It was hard to find that on the base. Everyone always wanted to speak to him but she had never thought it necessary to make small talk. He appreciated that about her. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Steve’s voice cut through the heavy silence. 

Natasha, who had been checking Wanda for injuries, shrugged. “I don’t know. From a medical perspective, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. A couple of cuts and bruises but nothing out of the ordinary.” 

“Then why isn’t she waking up?” he demanded, a touch of desperation in his voice that made Bucky flinch. It reminded him of when they were teenagers on the streets of Brooklyn. Steve was always getting into trouble, always hurting himself, and Bucky had always been there to patch the kid up. Even when Steve’s mom died, he had been there, but here right now, listening to the panic in his friend’s voice, Bucky was at a loss. He wanted to help but there was nothing anyone could do at this point. 

“I…” Sam started to speak. “I saw a flash of red when the jet went down.” 

That was right. Bucky remembered that too. 

“And don’t you guys think it’s odd none of us have more serious injuries?” Sam continued. 

“No,” Scott breathed out with a disbelieving shake of his head. “You don’t think… I mean she couldn’t. Could she? Can she do that?” 

“I’ve seen her do incredible things,” Steve answered for them as he bent down on one knee. “I think she did save us all and that’s put a huge strain on her mind.”

“So what can we do?” Natasha asked.

“I…” Steve exhaled, “don’t know.” 

They didn’t have time to ruminate over their options because already in the distance, Bucky could hear the whirring of engines rushing towards them. He knew Steve could hear them too as the man stood up abruptly and stared seemingly into the nothingness of the jungle. 

“We have to move,” he said urgently. “Now.” 

“How do we know it’s not T’Challa’s men?” Scott asked. 

“I suspect we are somewhere on the border of Wakanda and Niganda,” Natasha informed them. “The two nations have been at war for a very long time and I don’t care to sit around and find out if it’s T’Challa’s men or someone else.” 

Scott pursed his lips and then nodded. “Good point. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“What about Wanda?” Bucky asked.

“I got her,” Steve answered immediately, already bent over to pick up the unconscious woman. He gestured towards Natasha. “Nat, you lead the way with Scott, and Bucky, you and Sam flank the rear. I’m counting on all of you to keep Wanda safe.” The absence of his own well-being said more about their captain than any of the biographical accounts that had been published about him in this year alone. 

The team began to journey further into the jungle. The whirring of engines eventually faded into the usual stirrings of their surroundings, and though the canopy of the jungle blocked most of the sun from filtering through, Bucky could tell that dusk was beginning to arrive and soon what little light they had would die out with the setting of the sun. The humidity that was currently causing droplets of sweat to trickle down his back and the side of his face was not helping their situation either. He wiped with the back of his hand but he could already feel his movements getting more and more sluggish. The longer they walked through this jungle, the harder it would be for any of them to fight if pressed to do so. Steve must have come to the same conclusion as he called for the Avengers to halt. 

“We need to find some cover,” Steve announced. “It’d be too dangerous to walk through this jungle in the dark.”

“Why don’t I use the suit to see how far we’ve come?” Sam asked and Bucky rolled his eyes. “What? We don’t even know if we’re going the right way!” 

“We’re going the right way,” Natasha quickly asserted.

“If you fly up there, you’ll be an easy target,” Bucky told him. “You might as well shoot a flare into the sky.” 

“Well, what do you suggest then, huh?”

“Find cover like Steve said and we can resume the journey to Wakanda in the morning,” Bucky said. Sam looked like he was ready to argue but the stubborn set of his lips meant that he knew that Bucky won this round and that offered the man a great deal of satisfaction. There was nothing quite like annoying Sam Wilson.

“ _Or_ I can use _my_ suit and scout on ahead,” Scott suggested with a smug smile. “I’ll be much faster shrunk down and I’ll go undetected.” 

“Okay do it,” Steve said, and almost instantaneously, Scott disappeared from view. “But the rest of us need to find some shelter for the night. We can take turns standing guard.” 

“I saw an old ruined temple a couple miles back,” Natasha suggested. “There’s one in tact wall and we can use it for cover.” 

“Okay, move out.” 

It didn’t take long for the team to find the ruins. It had been built inside a lowered area of the jungle and if not for the carvings along some of the half destroyed walls, Bucky would never have thought this had once stood as a temple. There was hardly anything left of the area. Time, or something else, had eroded the place a long time ago, and the one wall left standing barely served as a cover, but with little else to go, they would have to make do. Bucky and Sam scouted the area, trying to determine where the weakest points would be, before returning to the makeshift camp. They couldn’t risk a fire so all they had were the few provisions they had scavenged from the wreckage in the centre. Steve was sitting beside the still unconscious Wanda against the wall and Natasha covered the south side of the camp, so Bucky took up the north flank and Sam took to the east. 

Silence fell on the campsite. Natasha was supposed to stand guard while they slept, but no one else could find it in them to sleep at a time like this. They were being hunted by unknown enemy combatants, Scott was still somewhere out there and Wanda had yet to wake up. The tension that lay thick in the air kept them all awake. 

Bucky was used to not sleeping. The fatigue in his bones was like an old friend coming back to greet him after a long hibernation. He welcomed the familiar. 

Hours must have slipped them by as the darkness that had threatened to swallow them earlier had now completely descended upon the jungle. They were in precarious territory now. Bucky could only rely on his hearing but at least Sam had his upgraded visors equipped with infrared lenses, so they weren’t flying totally blind. 

“Wanda…” 

Bucky sat up straighter at his voice. He didn’t have to turn around to know whose it was; he had been listening to it all his life. It was soft enough not to be heard through normal means but thanks to Hydra, Bucky was able to pick it up quite easily. 

“Hey,” Steve continued to speak to her. “I think you can hear me. Maybe I’m crazy but I think you can… I just want to say, thank you. For saving us. You were amazing.” A pause then an exhale. “You’re always amazing.” 

The last three words were said at a decibel even lower than before and it made Bucky wonder if Steve was talking to her, or if he was talking to himself. 

“Which is why I need you to wake up now,” Steve said, his voice taking on an authoritative tone, which seemed a stark contrast to the gentle nature of his previous words. “We need you out here, Wanda. We can’t survive this jungle without you.” 

The change in Steve was peculiar to Bucky, and for all the decades that he had known Steve, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what the sudden change was for. It did bring up a plethora of questions that Bucky was determined to uncover the answers to; however, perhaps not right this second. If they survived this mission - hell, if they survived this _night_ , Bucky would ask. 

\-----

When the black and scarlet subsided from her mind’s eye, Wanda was pulled backwards, like someone had just rescued her from a tidal wave and carried her to safety onto the deck of a ship. Almost immediately, she knew she wasn’t really awake. She knew because it was suddenly cold and considering the temperature readings she had done prior to this mission to Wakanda, Wanda knew this couldn’t possibly be it. 

She also knew because Wanda could hear him.

She could hear everything. She could _feel_ everything. 

The only thing she couldn’t feel was her own body. She was paralysed in her mind. Ever since she had casted that field around her team, protecting them from the blast, Wanda had felt a different kind of explosion. The amount of energy required to do what she had done had ignited something in her mind and it threw her back into its farthest recesses, locking her from any avenue of escape. Wanda was trapped.

But she could still hear _him_. 

Wanda would do anything to just be able to reach out and touch him, show him that she was alright, that she was alive, but she was weak. Her powers were lying dormant, trying to recover from her stunt earlier, and Wanda could not summon the energy to reach out to him. 

This was what Pietro had warned her about. Her _prison_. She had created this all on her own over the years. Every heartache, every feeling of anguish had contributed to this place; it was how she hid from the world. 

It was ironic. For so long, Wanda had wished for a place to hide but now that she found it, she only wished to be found. 

His fingers brushed against her temple, the sensation tickling her mind, and though she couldn’t see what he was doing, the contact had restored their previous connection and Wanda could feel him again. He was blaming himself, but what was new? Steve always found a way to burden himself with other people’s actions. Wanda had made this choice. To save him and the team over her life? It had been an easy choice, and she didn’t want him to live with that kind of guilt if she never woke up again. 

Pushing with every last ounce of power she had left in her, Wanda tried to project her thoughts to him, just like she had done that night out on the cliff overlooking the city. A sharp pain shot through her mind like an electrical jolt, but Wanda forged on. She knew she could reach him; she had done it before and that made it easier. If she could just push a little further, just a little bit then she could find him, she could reach him from within her prison. 

“ _STEVE!_ ” 

The sound of her voice echoed back to her. Wanda was hitting a wall. She needed to push harder. 

“ _STEVEN ROGERS!_ ”

Something snapped and Wanda waited for what felt like forever. 

“ _Wanda?_ ” 

Wanda smiled and exhaled with relief. 

“ _Steve, you can hear me!_ ” 

“ _How - how are you doing this?_ ” 

“ _Like before,_ ” Wanda laughed. He was kind of adorable when she caught him unaware like that. “ _I have already felt inside your mind so it was easier to locate you. And you helped._ ” 

“ _Let’s pretend I understood any of that, how am I helping exactly?_ ” 

“ _You’re touching me, are you not?_ ”

The rush of embarrassment resounded around her and it made Wanda laugh, but then he was pulling away, the connection beginning to fade...

“ _STEVE, NO! DON’T MOVE!_ ”

Panic filled her. She didn’t want to be left alone in this place. In the darkness. This was her prison and who knew what she had hid inside here over the years? What pain lurked behind the shadows? Wanda didn’t want to find out. Having Steve in here with her, even if it was just his voice, kept her demons at bay.

The connection fully restored again, Steve’s voice filled her mind. “ _Wanda, what! What happened! Are you okay?_ ”

“ _Yes, yes. If you move away, I can’t hear you. You need to be…_ ” A rush of her own embarrassment overwhelmed her and Wanda wanted to roll her eyes at herself for it. “ _You have to be touching me, Steve, for the connection to work_.” 

A pause and then, “ _oh, I see… Okay. Just… give me a second_.” 

Wanda waited and wondered what he was up to, but when he spoke again, his voice sounded brighter, closer, as if he was standing right here with her. 

“ _Is that better?_ ” 

_“Yes… What did you do?_ ” 

Embarrassment once more laced his words. “ _I just moved you. I promise I’m not…_ ” 

“ _Steve, it’s okay. I trust you._ ” 

“ _Thank you,_ ” he said with relief. “ _So… how - what do we do? How can I help?_ ” 

“ _Truthfully? I don’t know. I can’t move. I try to wake up. I try to feel my body but it is like I’m trapped._ ”

“ _Has this ever happened to you before?_ ” 

“ _No, never,_ ” but then Wanda realised that that wasn’t exactly the truth. “ _Only once before. It was…_ ” 

Wanda felt his hand slip into hers. 

“ _You can tell me. Nothing you say here will ever go beyond us._ ” 

Wanda breathed in. The memory was a painful one but she did trust Steve. Maybe more than she had ever trusted anyone since Pietro. “ _When we first got our powers, my brother and I, they wanted to test us. See how far they could push us, how far they could push our powers. Only it didn’t feel like tests._ ” She shuddered. _“It felt like…_ ”

“ _Torture_ ,” Steve added what she couldn’t finish.

“ _Yes,_ ” she said. “ _And I guess at some point, I passed out… from the pain. Pietro said I didn’t wake up for three days. No one knew what was wrong. My wounds had healed, I was physically okay but I just wouldn’t wake._ ” 

“ _Did Pietro find you?_ ”

She smiled. “ _He did. He somehow knew, like he could sense I was in my prison and he asked for an hour alone with me. They didn’t want to let him. They had been keeping us in separate cells, you see, but I guess they were desperate for me to wake up._ ” 

Steve didn’t say anything. She assumed he was waiting for her to finish.

“ _He came and just placed his hands to my head and suddenly I could hear him and he could hear me. I don’t know what he did but whatever it was, it worked because next thing I remembered was waking up to that horrible overhead light in my cell_.” 

“ _I’ll figure it out, Wanda_ ,” Steve said after a moment. “ _I’ll get you out._ ” 

If anyone could, it’d be her captain, but Wanda was not an optimist by nature. Not much of her life had led her to such thinking, so she had made contingency plans. “ _But if you don’t, if the sun rises and I am still in this state, you need to leave without me._ ” 

“ _No! That is not an option! No one gets left behind!_ ” 

“ _Steve,_ ” she said with some force. “ _You cannot carry me all the way to T’Challa’s palace. The team needs you. There is an army after you and you cannot be distracted._ ” 

“ _Wanda, I am not leaving you,_ ” Steve responded with equal amounts of fervour. “ _That is final._ ” 

Wanda smiled and she wished to touch him. “ _You cannot save us all, Captain Rogers_.” 

“ _No, but I will save you_.” 

\-----

The next morning, Steve rallied the rest of the team. Scott had returned an hour after dawn and had detailed the best possible route to Wakanda’s border. He had also informed them that there was an army a stone’s throw from their position, just as Wanda had said. Steve rubbed at his weary eyes and looked at her still unconscious form. It had been a long night but even with the knowledge that Wanda was still alive in there, he didn’t feel any amount of relief. She had been persistent that he leave her behind but considering the fact that there wasn’t a chance in hell that Steve would even do that, the two had dissolved into an argument and Wanda had retreated into her mind and shut him out. 

God was she stubborn. Almost as stubborn as he was. 

Still, the matter of her safety was not something Steve was willing to compromise on and at the very least, he had the support from the rest of the team on that. 

Strapped to his back, Wanda’s head fell forward against his shoulder. He signalled for Scott and Nat to lead the formation once more and for Bucky and Sam to flank the rear. Steve would stay in the middle as with Wanda attached to him, he was the most vulnerable member of all. They marched on past noon, only stopping for a brief break to rehydrate; Steve didn’t want to be out here in the jungle any longer than necessary. The faster they made it over Wakanda’s border, the safer they would surely be. 

Scott and Natasha were discussing how to fix the radio and Sam and Bucky were arguing about something behind him. It wasn’t wise to allow his team to talk at a time like this but Steve could feel the tension rolling off each and every one of them in waves. As long as they kept their voices down, he would allow it. 

Besides, there was comfort in companionship, even through the most trying of times. It would explain why Steve had absentmindedly reached behind him for Wanda’s hand. He knew she was angry with him but he needed to hear her voice.

“ _Talk to me_.” 

“ _And say what?_ ” came her curt reply. “ _We have said all we had to say last night._ ” 

“ _You can’t be angry with me for wanting to save your life, Wanda!_ ” 

“ _If saving my life means the end of yours and the rest of the team? Then yes, I can_.” 

“ _We are more than capable of protecting each other_.” 

“ _Perhaps, but none of you have slept. None have you have eaten. You are all dehydrated and tired, and now you, their captain, have deadweight strapped to your back. How long do you think you will last in a fight, Steve?_ ”

It irked him that Wanda had a point but whether she did or not, her point didn’t matter. “ _Then we die but we die as a team. No one gets left behind_.” 

“ _You are infuriating!_ ” 

Steve dropped her hand and severed their connection as Nat and Scott abruptly stopped. He stepped up towards them with a curious tilt of his head. “What’s the hold up?” 

“There, in the distance, do you see that?” Nat asked. They were atop a ledge overlooking the expanse of the jungle, and just a klick away from where they stood, Steve could make out the flickering of light reflecting on some kind of shiny surface.

“What do you think it is?” 

“Metal? Maybe the windscreen of a vehicle?” Nat suggested. “But whatever it is, it doesn’t look friendly. We need to find a new route.”

“Look, what if we follow that river there,” Sam pointed out to them. “It winds up the jungle and should lead us straight to the border.” 

“I tried that way and it will also lead you straight to one of their outposts,” Scott said. “I don’t know about you but I thought we were trying to avoid conflict.” 

“When have the Avengers ever gone anywhere without conflict?” Sam snorted. 

Steve frowned at all of them. “When we have an unconscious member.” 

“Okay but see that there, the light is moving, meaning they’re heading this way,” Nat interjected now. “I will bet you money that that most of those men will be coming from the outpost. If we follow the river and head up that way, we have the element of surprise.” 

The proposed plan was risky, especially with Wanda still unconscious, but it was the best one they got. If they tried to head through the jungle, they would surely be caught, and there was no possibility of doubling back now with another army fast on their trail. At least if they took down the outpost, they would be able to do so on their terms and Steve could hide Wanda somewhere away from all the fighting. 

“Okay, we’ll go by the river,” Steve nodded firmly. “C’mon. Before anyone sees us.” 

The team quickly maneuvered their way down from the ledge, all five of them careful to keep quiet now, and swiftly found their way to the river. The journey up the river was not any bit easier than it had been having to navigate their way through the thick, humid jungle, but at the very least, it was a touch cooler here than it was anywhere else. 

Time passed them by slowly and the fatigue set into even Steve’s muscles, tightening them and forcing them to work harder than they wanted to. The weight of Wanda against his back was beginning to cause aches along his spine as well, though she hardly weighed anything. It was the continued pressure that wasn’t ideal in this kind of temperature. Steve suspected she could sense his exhaustion and he was glad that she could only speak to him when they were touching skin-to-skin. He didn’t need to hear her lectures again. It would only aggravate him that he had to fight her on the value of her life. 

“Steve, watch out!” Bucky shouted but it was too late. The bomb exploded before it even reached the ground, propelling Steve through the air into the river. His ears rang from the explosion but Steve hardly had time to recover his senses when several more were thrown towards his team, until they were all being forcefully expelled into the river. As the smoke began to clear, a line of guerilla fighters faced off towards them, a sawed-off shotgun in each of their hands. It was then in horror that Steve realised in the explosion, Wanda had slid off his back and was now lying on the muddy bank, alone, unarmed and unconscious. 

“Wanda!” he shouted, trying desperately to push that thought towards her but knowing that without contact, he couldn’t reach her in her mind. “Please, Wanda!” 

One of the men, clearly their leader, stepped forward. He pulled Wanda to her feet, the mouth of the shotgun pressed to her temple. “Is this your precious Wanda?” he laughed. His accent was thick, similar to that of T’Challa’s but there was a roughness to his words that the Wakanda King lacked. “It’d be a shame if she were to die.” 

Steve made a move towards them but the man cocked his shotgun. 

“No, no, you make one more step and you will have her blood on your hands,” he warned. “Now, tell me, what are Americans such as yourselves doing so far in the Niganda jungle?” 

“Our plane crash landed,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “We are travelling to Wakanda. If you let us go, I am sure we can come to some kind of compromise.” 

“Compromise? Ha!” he tilted his head back and laughed, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. “That is a good joke. For that, I will kill your precious Wanda last.” He readjusted his hold on the shotgun and directed it straight at Steve. “But for trespassing, I will kill you first.” 

He fired the shotgun, and though Steve was prepared to use his shield for cover, the bullet never reached him. Instead, a scarlet mist swirled around them, picking up the bullet before it could reach Steve, and depositing it into the river. The leader of the guerilla fighters jumped back in shock as he noticed the source of the scarlet mist was coming from the woman beside him. Wanda stood with her hands stretched out and her eyes a bright red; she jerked her hand to the left and yanked the shotguns out from all of their hands. Each one then snapped in half.

“She is the devil!” they shouted. “Devil!” 

The men scrambled after one another and ran into the forest. Once the last had disappeared from view, Steve rushed out from the river towards Wanda. He placed both of his hands on either side of her face. “Hey, hey. Come back to me.” The swirling mist stopped and as quickly as it had come, the scarlet disappeared. Wanda’s eyes returned to normal and then she collapsed in Steve’s arms. 

Wanda blinked up at him and smiled weakly. “No one gets left behind, right?” 


	5. A Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!! 
> 
> Last week was hell week at work T____T I work at a magazine and we were closing the issue for the month and basically what I'm trying to say is, SORRY! 
> 
> Anyway, I do hope this was worth the wait! And thank you to everyone for the amazing comments!
> 
> Ily all <3

The fish was bland, but after nearly forty-eight hours without much else to eat, Steve would have been happy to eat a rat. He had gone longer and on far worse food. Back when Bucky and him had served in the Howling Commandos, food was often scarce and just having a full belly at night was a luxury. Living in the twenty-first century, however, had made him soft. With so much to eat, so many delicacies from all over the world to taste, Steve had taken it for granted. 

Hunger satiated for now, Steve was tucked away underneath the branches of a large parasol tree where the Avengers had built their campsite. Even if they wanted to start a fire, the torrential downpour would have doused it within seconds. The tree did its best to shield them from the fat droplets but a tropical rain such as tonight could penetrate even the thickest part of the African jungle. 

Steve rather delighted in the rain. It was cool to his skin and washed away the humidity that had been clinging onto him for the past couple of days. He ran a hand through his blond hair and leaned against the trunk of the tree. Though his eyes were on the notebook he always kept on his person, he was listening intently to the conversation in front of him.

“After we get home, I am taking the longest bath of my life,” Nat said, shrugging out of her jacket and pulling it over her head, as if that could shield her from the rain. 

Wanda chuckled softly. “A bath sounds wonderful.” 

“You bet it does,” Nat said. “I feel like I have dirt in places I can’t even reach.” That earned a look from Scott, who opened his mouth to speak, but one look from Nat silenced him. “You want to keep that tongue, Lang, you better keep that mouth shut.” 

After a moment, Wanda chuckled and said, “I just want ice cream.”

Steve looked up. He wanted to say something; or maybe he just wanted to offer his time, but before he could deliberate with himself over whether that was appropriate or not, Nat beat him to the punch. 

“Then when we get back, you and I, we’re going out for the biggest sundaes New York’s got to offer,” Nat told her and Wanda smiled in response. 

Sighing softly to himself, Steve closed his notebook and pocketed it away. He had always known exactly what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go, no matter how improbable. How many times had Steve tried to enlist in the army? How many times had he fought against the bullies only to be beaten down to a pulp? All of Steve’s life he had been told no and he had risen up anyways, but this might be the first time he had told himself no and that frustrated him the most. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Bucky asked as he came to sit beside Steve. He looked up at his old friend and smiled. “Oh, c’mon. It’s me.” 

“It’s nothing, Buck,” Steve shrugged off. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“No can do,” Bucky said. “Worrying about you is kind of my job.”

“And here I thought worrying about you was mine.” 

Bucky laughed and clapped him on the back. “That’s what brothers are for.” When Steve didn’t respond, Bucky pushed on. “So are you gonna tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?” 

“It doesn’t matter. Just drop it.” 

“Does it have anything to do with a certain dark-haired Sokovian?” Bucky asked, determined and unlikely to drop it like Steve had wanted. “Because if you like her, you should…”

“No, I shouldn’t,” Steve cut off right away. He may know what he wanted, or rather who he wanted, but he didn’t have to admit to anything out loud. “Like I said, it _doesn’t_ matter.” 

“You’re allowed to be happy, Steve.” 

“I am happy.” 

“Bullshit,” Bucky scoffed. “You’re going through the motions. That’s not living.” 

Steve pushed himself up from the ground and glanced down at Bucky. “I’m going to do a sweep of the perimeter.” He exhaled slowly and added, “and let’s forget this conversation ever happened, okay? I’m her superior and that’s what she needs. Nothing else.”

\-----

His therapist would say that the reason Bucky was so fixated on Steve’s love life was because he was unwilling to take a deep long look at his own, and maybe that was true, but his therapist probably hadn’t ever encountered two super soldiers who shared over seventy years of friendship -- of _brotherhood_. Steve’s happiness accounted for at least a third, if not more, of Bucky’s own, so if he looked at it this way, he was really helping Steve for his own mental health. 

Somehow Bucky didn’t think Steve would see it this way but then Steve was being doltish so what did he really know when it came to the betterment of his life. 

Assigned once more to cover the back of the team, Bucky turned to Sam. It had unfortunately come down to this. 

“I have intel on our earlier mission,” Bucky said as discreetly as he could, knowing that Steve had excellent hearing, but thankfully, their captain was so busy trying to avoid Wanda, he was at the front of the formation. 

Sam looked perplexed. “The Wakanda mission?” 

“No,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Our Steve mission.” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Sam laughed. “You mean, Operation Get Captain America a Love Life?” 

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Bucky asked. “Because I’m not calling it that.”

Sam shrugged. “Suit yourself. So what have you got?” 

Reaching out for Sam’s forearm, Bucky stalled the other man for a couple of paces, leaving some room between them and Wanda and Scott. He then leaned in and whispered to Sam, “Steve likes Wanda.” 

“ _What!_ ” 

“Quiet!” 

“What?” Sam repeated in a hushed whisper. “What do you mean Steve likes Wanda? When - How? I mean what!”

“I don’t know when or how, but I know that he does,” Bucky said. “I’ve seen him all googly eyed for Peggy before and this is what he looked like at the beginning.” Not to mention the captain himself all but admitted to the crush, or whatever it was. 

“Wow,” Sam rubbed at his chin. “Steve and Wanda. You know, I never would have seen this coming, but… it’s not a bad match. Weird but not the worst ever.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Bucky said. “Steve won’t do anything about it.” 

“Of course he won’t,” Sam sighed and threw his hands up. “Why not this time?” 

“He’s her superior.” 

“God, that’s some bullshit reason,” Sam said with a shake of his head and after a beat, added, “I will take a bullet for that man but sometimes _I_ want to shoot him in the foot myself. Just to wake him up.” 

“So what are we gonna do?” 

“Well,” Sam started. “How does Wanda feel?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“We’re going to need Nat on this one then,” Sam smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes, which elicited another chuckle from Bucky. “If anyone can crack Wanda, it’ll be the Black Widow.” 

Bucky nodded in silent agreement. If Sam or him even tried to broach the subject of Wanda’s love life, he predicted that it would end with the two of them being thrown against a wall by a flick of her wrist. 

She was truly a force to be reckoned with and Bucky suspected she didn’t even know the extent of her powers yet.

At least, taking control of the outpost and crossing the border over to Wakanda was made infinitely easier with Wanda conscious and fully recharged. Though she was still a ticking time bomb, she seemed to have a good grasp on her powers today and that cut their mission time almost in half. By the time they actually reached Wakanda, it was nightfall and T’Challa was there to greet them. Not a warm man by nature, especially to Bucky, he was profusely apologetic about what happened to the quinjet. It turned out that at the time of their arrival, they had also caught wind of Nigander’s plans to attack a Wakanda rescue team. The team had been in the middle of escorting a couple of teenagers back across their border. The mission had been simple and so required very few men, leading them extremely vulnerable to an attack from one of Nigander’s militias. With a very short window of time to act, T’Challa’s girlfriend created an electrical storm that disoriented the militia - only she happened to do it just as the quinjet flew over the area. 

As intriguing as Miss Munroe’s powers may be, Bucky wasn’t sure if he liked her. In fact, he was fairly sure she was _unanimously_ disliked by the present Avengers team. 

“None of us were harmed, T’Challa,” Steve said, always the polite diplomat, and placed a reassuring hand on the King’s shoulder. “All is forgiven.” 

“Say that to my jet,” Natasha murmured under her breath and immediately received a glare from Steve for it. 

“Nevertheless, it is unacceptable,” T’Challa spoke with an air of refinement that only seemed to radiate around royalty. “We will find you a brand new jet to take home tomorrow. You all must be exhausted.”

“Starving actually,” Scott said with a shrug. 

“Then tonight, we feast,” T’Challa nodded. “In celebration of your lives.” 

Bucky groaned. He hated parties. 

\-----

Wanda wasn’t crazy. 

Despite what many in the press liked to think, Wanda was not crazy, so she couldn’t be imagining it. Steve really _was_ avoiding her. 

Normally, it wouldn’t rankle her if someone didn’t want to be around her. Wanda was more or less used to it. Having the press occasionally use her as the Avengers’ scapegoat made a lot of people avoid her - only Steve wasn’t just anyone. For one, he was her captain. He had to speak to her; it came with the territory. Two, well - he was her friend. They shared a bond Wanda didn’t think she would ever feel again after losing Pietro. 

Could she mean so little to him that he would dismiss that so easily? 

No; Wanda shook her head at the thought. This was Steve Rogers. Valiant, honourable, wonderful, understanding Steve Rogers. He would never - not when he knew how much it meant to her to have someone in her life that she could rely on again - someone who didn’t look at her like she was about to explode any second now. 

So, yes, being avoided by Steve _did_ rankle her this time. In fact, Wanda was furiously rankled and she had every intention of telling the man so. 

That was until she found herself cornered by the woman with the white hair. 

“Miss Maximoff,” she nodded in greeting. “You are wearing that to dinner?” 

Wanda looked down at her outfit bespeckled with mud, dead leaves and what she could only hazard to be blood. As everyone else had filed to their individual rooms to shower and change, she had decided to find Steve and speak to him alone. Wanda realised now that maybe she should have found him after dinner instead. 

“I… I don’t have any other clothes with me,” Wanda said. 

“There should be a fresh pair on your bed, Miss Maximoff.”

“Please call me Wanda,” she said, the use of her surname always making her think of her family; being the sole survivor of her bloodline hardly ever filled her with good feelings.

“Of course, then call me Ororo,” she said. “We are a lot alike you and I.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Our powers are unpredictable at times,” Ororo continued, “and when our emotions are at its most heightened, they can become…”

“Uncontrollable,” Wanda finished. This was a story she knew. “Is that what happened with the storm?” 

“Yes,” Ororo nodded with a regretful sigh. “I can’t apologise enough for what I had forced you all through and I feel your friends may never forgive me but I thought perhaps you might be able to understand.”

Wanda didn’t say anything for a moment. It was true that she understood but it was also true that she harboured resentment towards the other woman for the near-death experience. She was protective of her team. She may have lost so much but Wanda also knew, even if at times she failed to see it, that she had gain just as much. The Avengers - every single one of them - mattered to her. Anyone who put them in danger placed themselves in a precarious position, but how could Wanda fault Ororo for what could easily have happened to her - what has already happened before? Would that not make her a hypocrite? 

“I understand,” she eventually said, much to Ororo’s relief it would seem. “But _you_ have to understand it will take time. If T’Challa had been on that jet and it was me that had brought him down, would you not -” 

“Yes,” Ororo nodded, and for the briefest second, Wanda swore she saw the storm brewing in the woman’s eyes. “You are right. What I did was unforgivable.” 

“No, not unforgivable,” Wanda quickly explained. “It sounds absurd to say with our powers but we are still only human.” It was a sentiment she had been told repeatedly over the years but one she still struggled to accept. “We can still make mistakes. And… I think sometimes accepting that is a cross we all have to bear but it is not impossible. What we do with our powers after matters more than what we’ve done.” She smiled. It was something Steve had said to her after Lagos. At the time, she had scoffed and rolled her eyes, thinking how he could ever know what it felt like to be a murderer, but seeing into his mind and knowing him for as long as she did, Wanda knew that he struggled just as much. 

“Thank you,” Ororo smiled now and touched Wanda’s arm, before she then left her to stand in the corridor by herself. Almost immediately following her departure, Steve showed up in the space she had occupied just a moment ago.

“That was good of you, Wanda,” he said, the pride so evident in his voice that Wanda wanted to smile but she didn’t. She remained composed and indifferent - at least in appearance she did.

“I didn’t realise we were speaking again,” Wanda said curtly. It was childish of her to take out her frustration in such a way but it was also childish of him to avoid her.

Steve looked taken back and then shame furrowed his brows. “You noticed, huh?”

Wanda sighed heavily. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” 

“I hoped.”

“Then you are a fool, Steve Rogers.” 

“That I am,” Steve sighed rather forlornly; this piqued Wanda’s interest but she didn’t have time to comment on it before he spoke again. “I’m afraid I’ve not been a very good captain to you.”

“You are even more of a fool if you really think that,” Wanda immediately told him. She was mad but she wasn’t spiteful enough to agree with such an absurd claim. In fact, Steve was lucky she didn’t just laugh in his face. 

“No, Wanda, I have,” Steve said and then abruptly glanced left and right. He took her by the hand and pulled her further down the corridor till they reached a nondescript white door. He pushed it open and pulled her inside. “I didn’t want our conversation to be overhead.” He moved aside to let her walk into the room. “This is the room they assigned me.” 

Wanda nodded and walked to the bed to sit down. “Tell me why you are a horrible captain.” In the brief second he touched her, she had felt his regret, frustration, embarrassment and nervous energy. It was a potent mixture of emotions and she wanted to know how she could fix it. 

Steve didn’t follow but remained by the door. “I need you to know that there’s nothing I value more than your happiness.” He then corrected himself. “The happiness of the team is at the top of my priorities.” She felt disappointment in the correction, though she hardly knew why. “If I can help in any way, you know I would try.” 

“Yes, Steve,” Wanda said with a tilt of her head, trying to penetrate his thoughts just by staring at him. “I know that. We all do. That is why you are a _great_ captain.” 

“Maybe before,” Steve murmured. 

“Before what?” 

“Before you started becoming more of a priority than everyone else,” Steve answered, his blue eyes staring back into hers, and Wanda shifted in her seat. “This mission has shown me that and I can’t afford to - as captain, I need to be able to divide my attention to each of my members equally. So… so I need to pull away.”

“I don’t understand,” Wanda said. Her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage and each thump pained her to the point of nausea. She wanted to be sick; she wanted to hide. But she also wanted to stay right here and convince Steve he was being ridiculous. 

“Our... friendship,” Steve continued. “It’s compromising my ability to stay objective on missions and I can’t have that, so I think it’s best if we just…” 

“Went back to the way we were before,” Wanda finished for him as she stood up. “I understand now.” She needed to leave; she _tried_ to leave but when she reached Steve, his hand shot out to hold onto her wrist. His regret overwhelmed her and Wanda snatched her hand away from him to cut the connection. 

“Wanda, I’m sorr -” 

“No, Steve,” she said and lifted up her chin, just as Pietro used to tell her to do when the other children would laugh at them. “I should apologise. I tried to replace Pietro with you and I can see now that that will never happen… so I’m sorry.”

Wanda pushed past him.

By the time she reached her own assigned room, tears were streaming down her face as a scarlet tempest threatened to consume her. 

Tonight, she just might let it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> ALSO
> 
> P.S. I am not as familiar with Storm or T'Challa as I am with other Marvel characters so please please forgive me if you're a diehard Storm/T'Challa fan and I fucked up their characterisation. Sincerely apologise for that!


	6. A Step Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!! 
> 
> Quicker update to make up for the long wait last time :) 
> 
> Enjoy! I hope you like it! 
> 
> Also huge thanks to everyone who has read it thus far! You guys are amazing!

Steve had to get her out of his head. He had made his decision and he was living with it. Allowing her to continue to exist in his head, strolling around as if she owned the place, was driving him crazy and that, he knew, was manifesting itself in the worst ways. Just this morning, when the sun was merely a glimmer on the horizon, a shimmering orange peek of light, Steve had snapped at a poor new recruit. There was no excusing his behaviour; no matter if the recruit had interrupted Steve while he was training; no matter if, really, Steve was simply angry at everyone else for the simple lives that they must lead.

Because he knew he was wallowing. 

However angry he was at everyone else, Steve was most angry with himself. He had chosen this life and the responsibilities that came with it. Serving his country and his team would remain his utmost priority, even if that meant suppressing his own wants and needs. 

Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, or so he kept reminding himself. 

Sat in his little office, which was a far cry from Stark’s highrise office with its floor-to-ceiling windows and minibar, Steve continued to sort through the paperwork. It was the least glamorous part of being an Avenger, not that any part of it was glamorous at all in his opinion, but he had to admit that today he enjoyed the monotonous task. It kept his mind occupied.

At least until Bucky and Sam entered his office without knocking. 

Seeing the two of them together, of their own volitions, was a cause for concern and Steve placed his pen down and leaned back in his chair, readying himself for anything. 

“Most people knock and wait,” Steve commented dryly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved off. “I’ll knock when the people who shoot at you stop shooting at me too.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He had heard that one before. “So what do you guys want?” 

“We’re here because...” Bucky appeared to struggle to find the words. “You’re being an imbecile.” 

“Subtle,” Sam said, as he glanced at his co-conspirator and snorted. “What my colleague is trying to say, Steve, is that we _know_.” 

Steve wasn’t surprised. After the conversation he had with Bucky in Wakanda, he had expected this, but he played dumb nonetheless. “Know what?” 

“Oh, c’mon,” Sam continued on. “About your little crush.” 

“There is no crush.”

“Isn’t there?” Bucky said with an arched brow as if to dare Steve to lie. 

“ _No_.” 

“You can deny it all you want, but I know you,” Bucky said with a slow smirk. “I know when you get crazy over a dame. You get all googly-eyed.” 

Steve frowned at that description. “I don’t. I admit I’m not exactly smooth but I think after seventy years I’ve learned how to contain my… googly-eyed-ness.” 

“You haven’t,” Bucky said; mirth danced in his eyes, which only griped on his nerves. 

Steve moved to lean forward on the desk, taking the stance of authority and finality. “Whether I do or don’t, it doesn’t matter anyways.” Nothing could ever happen. 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Sam interjected now. His look was serious and gone was the humour that had previously taken residence in his tone. “Steve, you’ve done more for this team than any one of us. You’ve given your life to it. I think the team would understand if you became a little selfish.” 

“This is a non-issue,” Steve said. “No good can come of it so it doesn’t matter. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” 

Sam and Bucky glanced at one another but taking the hint, _finally_ , from the tone of his voice, they both stood up and left Steve alone to his thoughts. He tried to push it aside, as he had done all morning, but these thoughts continued to expand and grow until all Steve could do was lie with his head pressed against the wooden desk. 

Who was he kidding; she _did_ own him. 

\-----

Nat didn’t like to involve herself in team drama. In fact, she detested dealing with anyone else’s personal life, but there were the exceptions. 

Clint; she would meddle in his life for as long as she had oxygen in her lungs. 

Bruce; if she knew where he was. 

And Steve. 

Nat would always meddle in Steve’s life. He was the closest thing she had to a brother. Technically, she had known Clint the longest but calling him family seemed at odds with their past. Steve was more like a brother, a _little_ brother, and since pulling him from the ice, Nat had made his happiness a personal mission of hers, but that proved difficult when the man in question was as obstinate as Steve was. 

The blind dates she had set him on all ended miserably after one another; Nat had been so close to quitting on his love life when Steve met Sharon. She had always liked the other agent. Agent 13 was strong, kind, sweet and as honourable as the man himself - only like the man, she had placed her career above a personal life. Now, if they saw Sharon, it was only very briefly, before she was once more sent jetting off to another top secret mission. 

What a shame that had been. They could’ve been great together.

Nat supposed, however, that _this_ could be great too, though she had hardly ever considered it a possibility before Sam and Bucky had approached her. 

She still wasn’t sure if it _was_ a possibility. 

“I guess I’ll find out,” she murmured to herself. 

Knocking on the wooden door, Nat waited. The corridors were empty at this time of day, with most people having chosen to spend their weekends with friends or family. It therefore stood to reason that Wanda would be in her room. She didn’t have family, and as far as Nat was aware, she didn’t have friends. 

In fact, the only person she had ever seen Wanda take a liking to was… 

“Natasha?” 

Standing barefoot in a large grey shirt and crimson coloured pyjama shorts, Wanda looked bedraggled, as if she had just woken up from a long sleep. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and then used it to push back her long dark hair away from her face. 

“Sorry,” Nat quickly said. “I didn’t realise you’d be asleep at…” She glanced down at her watch. “Shit, it’s eight o’clock on a Friday night, Wanda!” 

“I know,” she said, sounding irritable, but Nat wondered if that was just simply her accent. “I’ve had a long week. We were stuck in a jungle if you recall.” 

Of course she recalled; she had had to wash her hair four times to get all the dirt and gunk out, not to mention the destruction of her precious quinjet. 

“Which is why I brought this,” Nat raised her hand to show the bottle of white wine she had snagged from the Avengers’ communal area. “And this.” She raised her other hand to show the tub of chocolate chip ice cream and two spoons. 

Wanda eyed them both warily. “Wine and ice cream?” 

“It works.”

“I guess,” Wanda shrugged and then pulled back the door to let Nat through. She walked into the room and immediately noticed the bare walls. Aside from the books that lined her desk, there was nothing in Wanda’s room that would differentiate it from the other bedrooms in the Avengers’ living quarters.

How long had Wanda been with them? Almost three years?

Maybe it wasn’t Steve’s happiness that Nat should be worried about. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Nat said with an easy smile that didn’t mirror her thoughts, but she had more than enough experience masking her true emotions. 

Wanda glanced at her own room; quiet surprise flashed across her face, as if she hadn’t known herself how bare and impersonal her room was, and then indifference. It was the latter emotion that was concerning. 

“It is a room,” Wanda said with a shrug. She sat down on her bed, scooting till her back hit the headboard, and pulled her legs to her chest. Big green eyes stared up at Nat through long thick lashes, and in that moment, Wanda looked so impossibly young. The vulnerability in the way she was positioned and the way the shirt fell over her like a blanket - it was as if Nat was seeing, for the first time, the Wanda that had had her entire life stolen from her when that bomb killed her parents. 

Repressing for the time being the wave of concern, Nat nodded and made herself comfortable on the opposite side. She passed Wanda a spoon and the tub of ice cream. “I hope you don’t mind drinking out of the bottle,” she said. “I didn’t have enough hands for glasses.”

Wanda didn’t say anything but scooped a dollop of ice cream and put it in her mouth. A small smile peeked at the corner of her lips and even that made Nat feel triumphant. 

Thirty minutes passed them amicably by, as the two women ate ice cream, drank wine and conversed in safe and comfortable topics, but when Wanda started to giggle a little more, Nat decided it was time to bring out the big guns. So to speak. 

“What do you do, Wanda, when you’re not working?” 

The dark-haired woman considered the question and shrugged. “Read, I suppose.” 

Nat frowned and asked, “you don’t go out?” 

“To where?” 

“Just _out_ ,” she clarified. “Into the city. A museum? To dinner?” 

Another shrug. “Sometimes I ride out to the woods.” 

“Alone?” 

For a moment, Wanda was silent and her eyes turned away, looking at a memory in the distance. Whatever it was, it brought as much joy as it did pain, and Nat wondered _who_ could be causing that. 

She returned her gaze onto Nat. “Yes, alone.” 

Throwing her hands up into the air dramatically, Nat shook her head. “Well that won’t do. We need to get you out and about! Meet people. Make _friends_.” 

“I have friends,” Wanda said a little tersely, as if offended by the accusation. 

“We don’t count,” Nat said and that made Wanda harumph and cross her arms over her chest. “Don’t get me wrong; we _are_ your friends but we can’t be all you have.”

“I don’t need more.”

“You need a life.” 

Wanda snorted. “Why do people keep saying that to me?” 

“Who else said it?” Nat asked, though she knew exactly who it was, but the point was to get Wanda to bring up the man herself.

“Our _valiant_ captain,” Wanda said, her emphasis on ‘valiant’ making it sound like it was the most revolting trait in the world.

“Steve?” Nat repeated, playing dumb. Wanda nodded. “He does care about you.”

“Yes, the team is his priority,” she said and rolled her eyes. “I know.” 

“That, but I meant _you_ , specifically,” Nat said. “You’re important to him.”

“Not anymore,” Wanda murmured bitterly to herself. She reached out with long slender fingers, gripping onto the neck of the wine bottle, and bringing it quickly to her lips. Several glugs down, she resurfaced and exhaled heavily. “Why are men so stupid?” 

Nat laughed at that; a big full belly laugh. “If I knew, I’d tell you.” 

“Are all of them like that?” Wanda then asked, and there it was again. That vulnerability in her eyes that made her look so young; and it occurred to Nat then that through everything that Wanda had experienced in her life, every moment that had made her grow up faster than she should have, the thing she didn’t have any experience in was men. 

“Wanda,” Nat leaned forward. “Have you ever been on a date?” 

A crimson red flushed her cheeks and she shook her head. 

“So no ex-boyfriends?” Another shake of the head. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” 

The crimson that had graced her cheeks now flamed bright in her eyes. A low guttural sound came from deep within the other woman. “Only once. A guard… When we were at Hydra… He… It was the first time I used my powers to hurt someone.”

“Did he…”

“No,” Wanda quickly cut her off. “He just kissed me. It felt like a slimy fish licking my face.”

Nat smiled at Wanda’s attempt to lighten the mood and reached out to squeeze her hand. “Well, I hope it hasn’t put you off kissing.” 

“I haven’t thought about it.” 

“ _Ever?_ ” Nat was surprised by this but then she had had a colourful life, where her sex appeal to men and women alike was what had allowed her to slip through many doors. 

“Yes,” she answered. “When you have my powers and you can sense the people around you, you… Men are pigs and… you know, some women are pigs too. I just.. I have never met anyone who has not...” She was beginning to slur her words and leave her sentences trailing. Soon, Nat suspected, the witch would fall asleep.

“But Steve hasn’t, has he?” 

Wanda looked surprised. “He hasn’t what?” 

“Thought of you in a way that made you uncomfortable.” 

“He hasn’t,” she said slowly. “But he is Steve. He doesn’t… I don’t think he…” Her green eyes glazed over and once more she stared off into the distance, reliving a memory that Nat wished she could also see. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not? He’s a great kisser,” Nat said with a teasing lilt to her voice. 

“You’ve _kissed_ him?” she asked, eyes wide. 

“Only for a cover,” Nat shrugged and leaned back, while her eyes remained on Wanda’s face. “I don’t think he liked it very much.”

“Oh,” Wanda said then gave herself a little shake. “It still doesn’t matter. I don’t want him to be my first real kiss.”

“Why?”

“Because what if I’m awful at it?”

\-----

The next morning, Wanda woke up to the sound of a conga line dancing through her skull. She licked her lips and looked up at the ceiling of her room. The desire to stay in bed for the next twenty-four hours tempted her to remain immobile but her desperate need for water won out in the end.

Slowly swinging her legs off of the bed, Wanda pushed herself up. She rubbed at her tired eyes and yawned, arching her back to stretch out her muscles. It did little to help wake them up but she moved on. She _had_ to find water; her throat was parched. 

And fuzzy.

God, everything was fuzzy, even her memories were fuzzy.

What _happened_ last night? 

As she left her room, still wearing her pyjamas, Wanda navigated her way to the communal area and hoped no one she had to make small talk with was there. 

It so happened, however, in an unfortunate turn of events that seemed to be a common theme of her life, Wanda found herself staring at strong, broad shoulders in a tight navy t-shirt. She tried to back away but she should have remembered that Mister Super Serum would have super hearing too. 

“Wanda,” Steve said in a surprised tone, though she didn’t know why, considering she lived here. “Good… morning?” His eyes trailed down the length of her, taking in her disheveled state and smiling in an amused manner. “Late night last night?” 

Wanda licked her lips again and watched with interest as his blue eyes flickered to the movement. “Yes,” she said but refused to elaborate. He wanted to pull back on their friendship so she would pull. 

“Oh,” Steve said and the hurt that flashed across his face pained her, but Wanda was too stubborn to relent. “Okay.” 

For a moment, the two of them stood there in silence, just staring at the other. Wanda didn’t have to touch him to feel the guilt and hurt that she could see so clearly in his eyes and she wondered if he could see the emotions that stirred in her. 

Steve stepped forward, a hand outstretched as if to reach for her, when the rest of the team walked in. He then retreated away from her. 

“I do not understand,” Vision said. “So humans run around in circles chasing a ball for sport?”

“Not circles, man,” Scott said. “They run around the bases and they don’t _chase_ a ball; they hit the ball and the other - you know what, never mind.” 

“Always seemed dull to me,” Natasha said with a shrug, which earned groans from both Scott, Rhodey and Sam. Bucky was silent and didn’t seem to care either way. When Natasha caught sight of Wanda, she smiled brightly. “Hello sunshine, how are you feeling today?”

“Awful,” Wanda admitted and walked towards the other woman to join her on the stools in front of the breakfast bar. Natasha laughed. “How do you look so fresh?” 

“I didn’t drink as much as you.” 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Scott moved to sit beside Wanda. “You ladies had a party and didn’t invite me?” 

“It was hardly a party, Lang,” Natasha rolled her eyes. “We had a bottle of wine and some ice cream.”

“Sounds like a party to me.”

Wanda laughed but that only made her dissolve into a coughing fit. She realised she still hadn’t managed to get a glass of water and was about to stand up again when a glass materialised right in front of her. She looked up to see Steve staring back at her. 

“Thank you,” she murmured under her breath and brought the glass to her lips. The water slid down soothingly. Once quenched of her thirst, she turned to Natasha as well and whispered as quietly as she could, “I had fun last night. Thank you.”

A twinkle of mischievous eyes and a low chuckle made the hair on Wanda’s arms stand on end. Natasha then said, “don’t thank me yet. I still have to find you that date.”

Wanda paled and she feared to look to her right. “What date?” 

“Don’t you remember?” Natasha continued to smile and that only worried her more; Wanda shook her head in response. “Well…” Natasha looked around at the inquisitive faces of the men in the room and chuckled. “We can discuss details later.” She slid off of the stool. “I have to run but I’ll swing by in the afternoon.”

Wanda nodded, though her mind was dazed and confused; she couldn’t remember anything about a date from last night. 

As Natasha exited the lounge, Wanda could feel several pairs of eyes boring into the back of her skull. With her superhuman sensory reception, the lounge practically hummed with curiosity. Considering what they knew of her, even what she knew of herself, she didn’t blame them; she would have been curious as well if it had been someone else. Only it wasn’t someone else and their collective interest was overwhelming her senses. 

Wanda stood up, the metal feet of her stool scraping against the linoleum tiles, and if they hadn’t already been staring at her before, they would be now. She winced at the sound and made the horrible mistake of glancing around her. Blue eyes caught hers, and Wanda didn’t know what she had been expecting see from Steve but the blank, emotionless void in his normally so vivid eyes brought on a devastation that made her bolt from the room at a rushed pace. 

Speeding down corridors, Wanda retreated to the one place she could be alone. The alcove in the garden. Only until she reached her safe space did Wanda allow herself to exhale in frustration - frustration at Steve, at the way he continued to mess with her head, at herself for caring so much and finally, at Pietro for leaving her.

“You promised me,” she whispered into the ether. “You said you would always be there for me.” Tears flowed angrily down her face. For a while she had forgotten what it felt like to have half of her soul ripped away from her because she had Steve. He had made her feel _human_ again but she had stupidly placed her emotions at the hands of another when she knew what that only led to. Now without him, Wanda felt not only the loss of her twin but a different kind of loss; the loss of a best friend.

“If you were still here, none of this would’ve happened,” Wanda said bitterly. “I would never have needed him.” Gone was the rational part of her brain that could’ve told her that blaming her dead brother was utterly insane. In its place was anger and heartache; and Wanda let it fester. 

Too long she remained like that but eventually the grumbling in her stomach forced her to move. With a swift flick of her wrist, the rocks that had floated up careened towards one another until there was nothing left but specks of dust. 

Though she would always miss her brother and there was nothing she could do about that, Wanda did settle on a new course of action that offered a salve to her bleeding wounds. It would not heal her but it could soothe her. Wanda would stop hiding. She was doubtful she could ever find another person she could connect with like she had with Pietro and Steve. That kind of connection required unfaltering trust and a measure of her heart she was not willing to give out anymore, but she wasn’t looking for a replacement. 

Wanda simply wanted to feel again. 


	7. An Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOREVER SORRY FOR HOW LATE THIS CHAPTER IS!!!
> 
> I feel like this is my constant excuse but work has been crazy lately. In fact, it's almost always crazy :( but I will keep trying my hardest to write a new chapter every week. 
> 
> Even if this is a couple weeks late .-. 
> 
> I did try! I just struggled with this one. I deleted this chapter maybe 3 times? I just hated everything lol.
> 
> But I don't totally hate this and so I hope you guys like it! <3 <3 
> 
> SORRY AGAIN!

With a wave to Steve, Nat left the training area and started to make her way towards her own quarters. She had her own place in the city that she normally retired to but having a room in the building was always handy after a particularly gruelling mission. Today, she simply needed it for a shower. 

As she turned the corner, Nat was stopped abruptly. 

“How is he?” Sam asked. “Does he seem sad? Angry?”

“Is he jealous?” Bucky continued with the interrogation.

Nat rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you go ask him yourself?” 

“Have you met Cap?” Sam said with a dismissive flourish of his hand. “I’ll ask and he’ll deflect and pretend he’s fine. We want to know if he’s _really_ fine.” 

“Which we know he’s not,” Bucky added. 

Over the past month, several things had happened in the dynamic of the team. For starters, Wanda actually took Nat up on her offer and started going out on blind dates. She didn’t exactly know how they went because Wanda never wanted to talk about them but considering Wanda has yet to go on a second date with any of the men Nat had picked, she didn’t think they went well. 

Secondly, there was Steve. Nat normally had a really good grasp on the man. He wasn’t the greatest of liars, especially around her, but even she couldn’t gauge what he was thinking right now. It was clear to anyone who knew him that something was definitely _off_ , but how off remained a mystery. Once again, Steve threw himself into the job, leaving behind any hope they had of him finally getting a life. 

And thirdly, perhaps the most bizarre change of all, was Sam and Bucky. From sworn enemies to somewhat reluctant comrades, the two have constantly been seen together, whispering and scheming. 

And as they stood in front of her now, Nat wondered if this new friendship was a good idea at all. 

“Then why don’t you go talk to him about it?” Nat said. She was exasperated playing matchmaker, though she knew it was partially the guilt that made her reluctant to speak to Sam and Bucky. 

“Because this is _your_ mess,” Sam said with narrowed eyes. The accusation was justified but it still put Nat on edge and she returned his glower with one of her own. “If you had just stuck to the plan! Plans are made for following, Nat.”

She exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I realise that,” she said. “But I did what was necessary.”

 _“What was…_ ” Sam shook his head, leaving his words trailing in the air.

Bucky placed his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “What do you mean ‘necessary’? How was it necessary to do this to Steve?” 

Always straight to the point, Nat normally appreciated that about Bucky but right now, she could use a little less of the former Hydra’s tactless ways. She didn’t owe either of them an explanation; who she did owe was a dark-haired Sokovian - though Nat supposed she was obligated to at least give the boys something. 

“It wasn’t about Steve,” Nat said as vaguely as she could. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.” 

She pushed past the two, knowing she had done the right thing by keeping what had transpired between Wanda and her a secret. The young woman needed time. She wasn’t ready for what Steve would have offered her - if the man ever got over his own stubborn ways.

But that was a road Nat would have to tackle later.

\-----

“And then my mom came outside and just screamed bloody murder at my brothers and I,” the man opposite her said and then laughed as if he was reliving that exact moment. “I guess she wasn’t too impressed with a bright pink dog.” 

Wanda smiled, enjoying the easy sound of his amusement. 

“Oh god, look at me here just talking about myself.” His face sobered up quickly and he laughed again, though more awkwardly than before. “You must be so bored.” 

“Oh no,” Wanda quickly leant forward to ensure that she wasn’t. “I’m not. I - I really like hearing about your family. You have a lot of brothers?” 

“Yeah,” he answered with a beaming smile. “Three older ones actually. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of hell they put me through with me being the youngest.” 

Wanda was still smiling as she shook her head. “My brother - we were twins but...” She paused and allowed a memory to linger in her mind before dispelling the bittersweet taste it brought along with it. “But he did treat me like a baby all of the time.” 

“You said,” he started to say, looking awkward. “You said _were_?” 

“Pietro is,” she glanced away now to stare up at the crystals dangling off the chandelier above. “He is in a better place.” 

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said and Wanda’s attention was pulled back to his with a start as his hands clasped over hers from across the table. She looked at the physical connection between them and felt his remorse, sympathy and pity swelling up from him. Wanda slipped her hand from his and cut the connection short. He looked hurt and guilty and leaned back into his chair. “Sorry. I didn’t…”

“Do you have any sisters?” Wanda asked, cutting off his apology. She was tired of apologies; of people always tiptoeing around her pain. 

Taking the cue immediately, the man whom Natasha had introduced as Peter Seltzer continued to recount stories upon stories of his family and his childhood. The happy memories allowed Wanda to fall into a peaceful sense of joy, though the jealousy and bitterness still lay close to the surface like a layer of oil that refused to dissolve into the water. 

At the end of the date, Peter walked her out to the motorcycle she had once again hijacked from the Avengers’ garage. He was the first civilian she had been on a date with in the past few weeks. The others had worked in or around the base and had always driven her back, but Wanda was tired of dating people who knew so much about her. She didn’t want to speak to someone who understood; she just wanted to be normal, and so Natasha found Peter. He was a nice man. Tall and gangly with a flop of dark brown hair and darker eyes that looked at her from behind round metal-rim glasses. He worked in finance or accounting or something that Wanda didn’t quite understand but he was normal as normal got and she liked that. 

“So I uh…” he hovered by her motorcycle and looked down at her with a shy smile. “I had a really good time tonight.”

“It was nice, yes,” Wanda agreed and smiled in return. She could now feel his attraction humming around him and knew what part of the date came next. She hadn’t let any of the other men even reach this stage but with Peter, she wondered if she should. “Your family - they seem very wonderful.” 

“They are,” Peter nodded. “You’d love them.” And then with such lightning speed, his eyes grew huge and his mouth spluttered open. “Not that I’m - I’m not saying you should meet them now because that would be crazy! I only - I just think… I should stop talking now.”

Wanda laughed, perhaps for the first time that night. “That is probably wise.” 

“I was wondering what that sounded like,” he told her with a braver smile. 

“What?” Wanda asked, confused. 

“Your laugh,” Peter said. “It’s very pretty.” 

Almost as if the world had slowed down, Wanda watched as Peter leaned forward, his eyes closing shut and his lips moving towards her own. She didn’t _dislike_ him. She actually really enjoyed his company but there was something missing and she didn’t know what it was. Still, a part of her wanted this. This was why she had asked Natasha for help. Wasn’t it? 

Inhaling sharply, Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and allowed Peter’s lips to just press gently over her own for the briefest of seconds before he quickly pulled back.

“I hope to see you again if that’s okay?” 

Wanda exhaled and opened her eyes slowly, which was when three things occurred to her simultaneously. One, she just had her first real kiss and it wasn’t awful. Two, Peter wasn’t the only one staring at her right now. In fact, there were two extra pairs of eyes looking at them from across the parking lot. And three, Steve and Tony were making their way over right this very second and Wanda had nowhere to run to. 

“Well, well, well!” Tony exclaimed with a laugh. “Who knew the witch had a love life?” 

“Tony,” Steve warned in a low voice that carried over to Wanda. She flinched at the sound. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your boyfriend?” Tony continued on. When Wanda didn’t respond, Tony turned to Peter and thrust his hand forward. “Hey, how you doing? Tony. Tony Stark.”

“I… uh, I know who you are,” Peter stuttered as he shook Tony’s hand. “I’m Peter.” 

“Well, Peter,” Tony said. “Glad to see someone’s finally got our lil Wanda out and about.” 

“Wait,” Peter said and then he looked to Tony and Steve then to Wanda. “ _That’s_ why you look so familiar! You’re Scarlet Witch!”

Wanda gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes at Tony. For one night, she had just wanted to be a normal girl and she couldn’t even have that. 

“You didn’t know?” Tony asked incredulously and then laughed, slapping his knees.

“Wanda,” Steve said as he tried to reach for her but Wanda stepped backwards. 

“I just wanted one night,” she said, her voice reaching a timbre that she reserved only for when she was truly, truly angry. Her eyes flashed scarlet. “One night and you couldn’t give me that.” 

Turning quickly, Wanda mounted her motorcycle and fled from the parking lot of the restaurant at a speed that she was positive was illegal. A flurry of scarlet mist surrounded her and propelled her towards where she needed to go.

A place that would barricade her from the world.

And a place where she couldn’t fling Tony Stark into a wall. 

And maybe Steve too while she was at it. 

\-----

There was no bigger idiot in the world right now than Steve. 

He knew it and she _definitely_ knew it. 

He should have left her alone, as he promised her he would - as he promised himself he would - but when she started dating, this promise became harder and harder to keep. Steve tried to tell himself that the emergency meeting he had called in the middle of her first date had truly been an emergency but even he knew that a Saturday evening meeting to discuss post-mission psych evaluations was something that could have waited.

Or that coercing the location of Wanda’s date tonight from Nat was simply Steve asking out of curiosity. And inviting Tony out to discuss renovations for the headquarters at the same restaurant was simply a subconscious coincidence. 

Steve was well and truly an idiot. 

He suspected that following her now on his motorcycle was probably the biggest mistake he would make this month but he couldn’t stop himself any more than he could from calling that meeting. The minute Steve saw her there kissing a stranger, he knew that what he had been repressing was not going to go away any time soon. He needed to just speak to her; alone. 

An inky black sky stretched out in front of him. The further he followed the scarlet mist out of the city, the less inhabited the road became and the more twinkling lights dotted the night sky. When they finally reached the woods, Steve realised exactly where she was going and he wondered if he should be intruding. This was her place, not his and certainly not theirs. 

Still, he was here now, wasn’t he? He had to follow through even if he knew Wanda wasn’t going to be happy to see him. 

Following the familiar trail, Steve reached the clearing that looked over the city minutes later. At first he stood in silence as he watched her figure standing out there by herself, the scarlet mist now swirling quickly around her. It always struck him with awe how powerful Wanda was and how intertwined her powers were to her emotions. As her captain, this worried him greatly, but as a man, he couldn’t help be drawn to her for it. Everything about her was simply otherworldly. 

Steve swallowed and stepped forward. “Hey,” he said lamely and cringed at himself. 

The swirling stopped and Wanda turned slowly. Her eyes were still red but she seemed more in control of her powers now than she had a couple months ago. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked with so much ire dripping from her words that it didn’t even sound like her. 

“I wanted to know if you were okay.” 

“As if you care, Steve,” Wanda said bitterly. “You made that very clear this month.” 

“Wanda, that’s not fair, I was…” Steve tried to make excuses but he had none to give that she wouldn’t see through. “It’s not that easy.”

“To what?” Wanda said angrily. “To care about me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve replied, feeling frustrated and irritated, though he wasn’t sure at who. “You’re not letting me explain.”

“Then explain,” Wanda said. “Explain why you have ignored me since Wakanda. Why you say we cannot even be friends anymore.” She sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. “Because I don’t know how you can do that to someone you care about. I couldn’t.” 

“It’s not that simple!” Steve said. “Whatever I do, I have to think of the team first. I have to put everyone’s needs before mine. I told you that.” 

“I know,” she said but she remained unsympathetic. “You are our valiant, selfless Captain America.” She scoffed at his title. “But what about your needs, Steve? Do you even think of them?” 

_Every day_ , he wanted to tell her. 

“They’re inconsequential,” Steve instead said. “My needs come after. I can’t think of myself when the team depends on me.” 

Wanda threw her hands up in the air and started to swear at him in Sokovian. He could only deduce that she was swearing because of the venom of her tone. She sighed and stepped forward. 

“So we cannot be friends,” Wanda said. 

“We can be friends, Wanda,” Steve quickly interjected. “Just because things are different doesn’t mean I don’t -” 

“Whatever,” Wanda waved off. “Fine.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “But you do not have a right to interfere with my life.” 

“I don’t -” 

“Tonight,” she said. “Of all the restaurants? It is unlikely.” 

“It’s a good restaurant,” Steve tried to say but she silenced him with one look.

“It is not that good.” 

“Then what about the meeting?” Wanda looked at him and dared him to defy her. 

Steve wasn’t a liar by nature. He hated to lie to anyone, especially to the people he cared about most, but he wasn’t ready to admit to what this conversation would lead to. “We have meetings, Wanda.” 

“Not on the weekends! Not for that!” 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Steve lied, feeling the horrible taste of it in his mouth. “If you’re asking if I called that meeting to purposefully disrupt your date then you’re very mistaken.” 

“Why are you so - so _pigheaded!_ ” she cried out and stepped forward to shove him with both hands but without her powers to back her up, the effort only caused Steve to sway slightly. 

“What do you want me to say!” Steve countered, now feeling the full force of his frustration. He was tired of always having to be him but he was also tired of Wanda expecting so much of him when she knew the kind of responsibilities that he had to shoulder. “What do you expect of me, Wanda?” 

“I don’t know!” she answered. “I just want you to stop hiding behind this - this Captain America nonsense. I want you to just be honest with me!” 

“I _am_ Captain America,” Steve answered. “This is who I am!” 

“No, it is not,” Wanda said defiantly. “You are Steve. You are Steve Rogers, the boy from Brooklyn. You are Steve Rogers, my best friend.” Then in a whisper, she said, “my Steve.” 

His heart swelled against his ribcage and he fought every urge in his body to give in to his needs, but the words that filled him with such joy also brought a wave of cold water to come crashing down on him. He was _her_ Steve, her best _friend_. What he may have entertained on the drive over here, what he might have wanted to tell her, seemed so utterly nonsensical now that Steve knew what would come of it. Wanda’s connection to him was deep, he didn’t doubt that for a second, but there was still a limit to how she felt about him and Steve couldn’t hurt her more by bringing in a new element that she didn’t want. It already pained him to distance himself from her, especially when he knew she needed him, but the more he spent in her company - the more he got to know he - the more Steve would put both her and the team at risk out in the field. 

Wanda deserved better. 

“I can’t be your Steve,” he said evenly. “I can’t be that person.” 

Hurt flashed in her eyes before anger swiftly replaced it. “Then we are not friends.” 

“Wanda, please…”

“No,” she said angrily. “I do not want to be friends with someone who won’t let himself live. I am at least trying, Steve, to move on and live my life, so no, I don’t think we should be friends. I do not want to be friends with a _coward_.” 

Over seventy years had passed since anyone had called him that word, yet the impact of such a childish taunt filled him with such a familiar indignant rage. 

“Is that what tonight was?” Steve asked. “Living your life?” 

“Maybe!” 

“Then I hope you have a wonderful life with Peter, Wanda,” Steve said. It was petty and he knew it. She didn’t deserve this side of him; she didn’t deserve any side of him. She deserved so much more; yet the words had tumbled out before he could stop himself. 

Steeling himself from wanting to apologise and take back everything he had said, Steve turned from the clearing and walked back to where he had parked. He needed to leave it there because petty as he had just been, at least she could hate him now. 

If Peter was really what she needed to feel alive then Steve had to accept that and not stand in the way. 

Not anymore. 


	8. A Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there is a prize for having the worst writer's block, I would surely have won it by now. 
> 
> I am so sorry. I'm a fickle, busy, busy woman who lost all the muse to this story :( But I'm slowly trying to get it back and I hooope I'll be able to start updating again with much promptness. 
> 
> Again, SOOOO VERY TRULY SORRY <3 
> 
> Also I know this chapter is on the short-ish side. I guess it's like an introduction after the intermission but I hope you guys like it nonetheless!! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been so patient and so lovely to me.
> 
> P.S. if the grammar is dodgy, it's because I've been writing in first person for other things and now it appears I might've forgotten how to write in third person. Welp.

Three months had passed since that night in the woods and Steve doesn't feel any better about how things were left between them, but could he regret his decision when she seemed so happy with her life? Was he so selfish as to deny her what she wanted simply because he couldn't move on? 

No, Steve couldn't begrudge her a life. Just as he couldn't begrudge her wishes to move out of the Avengers headquarters to live further in New York and focus on going back to school instead of the team. Though there were moments in the missions that have followed her move that they could have used her powers, Steve and the team were able to carry on without her -- except in the privacy of his home, he didn't think he could. 

"God, you're even more miserable now than before," Tony commented from his perch on the sofa, tumbler glass of whiskey in hand. 

Steve scowled at him and turned his attention to the floor to ceiling glass windows overlooking New York. He wondered where in this concrete jungle she was right now. Was she at the modest little flat that the team had found for her in upper Manhattan? Or was she at school? 

"Seriously, Rogers, what's up with you?" Tony persisted with a diabolical grin on his face. "Does it have anything to do with our resident witch?" 

"Leave it, Tony," Steve said evenly, turning back to fix a gaze on the man, hoping to convey how little he cared for this conversation. Tony didn't even blink -- his smirk only grew, if that was possible in the slightest. 

"Oh c'mon, I'm just trying to help," he said with a chuckle. "You know Pepper and I are having dinner tonight, why don't you bring Wanda over and we'll call it a double date." 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose to settle his irritation. "Wanda and I are not - I don't know where you're getting your information, Tony, but there is nothing going on there." 

"Uhuh and I didn't create a billion dollar industry using sustainable energy," Tony said, his eyes creasing and his laughter ringing out in the spacious loft. "If you like the girl then you should just -" 

"I'm leaving," Steve groaned and walked towards the door. "When Nat arrives, tell her to brief you first." 

It was the first irresponsible thing Steve had done in months but for all the monsters, aliens and terrorists he had encountered over the years, he couldn't face another moment in Tony's penthouse listening to the man talk about what he was so desperately trying to move on from. 

If Wanda wanted to move out, fine. If Wanda wanted to take time off to finish her education, fine. If Wanda wanted to continue dating Pete, okay. But so help him, Steve did not want to talk about her. It was hard enough to survive a day without thinking about her -- so far he hadn't succeeded -- he didn't need the constant reminders from his teammates. 

The elevator dinged as it reached the ground floor. Steve ran a hand along his jaw, feeling the prickly hairs of a five o'clock shadow settling in and reminding himself to shave tonight. He walked out into the lobby, his eyes unseeing as he thought of all the chores he had to before he went home tonight, when a voice called out to him. 

"Steve." 

It was quiet, barely audible but in the empty lobby, it rang to him like a siren, drawing him ever closer to her. 

"You're leaving," she said and there's accusation in her eyes, a furrow between her brows, and Steve longed to crease it out. 

"Not because of you," Steve said after moment when he realised he hadn't said anything. "You look… healthy."

Wanda scrunched up her nose and frowned. "Healthy?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve answered, though he was kicking himself in his head for such a pathetic compliment. He could do better than that -- but he knew he shouldn't. She wasn't his to compliment; they weren't even friends. She had made that decision very clear last time they spoke. 

"Well, okay," Wanda said and started to walk past him. As he continued to move towards the lobby entrance, his mind reeling from how pathetic he had just come across, he heard her again, soft but so clear. "And Steve? You look healthy too."

That night, Steve didn’t stop himself from dwelling on her. He could so easily recall her face and the way her dark hair contrasted with her pale skin - the way her eyes crinkled when she was annoyed by something, or someone - but he couldn’t remember her laugh. He couldn’t remember how she smiled when she looked at him and the absence of that in his life was something Steve didn’t know how to fix. He had thrown himself into the job, training everyday and volunteering for every mission that came up. He had hardly had a day off since that evening in the woods three months ago but what would he do on his day off? Mope? 

He had to get a grip. He had to move on. 

A knock on the door drew Steve’s attention away from his thoughts but before he could answer, it swung open. Standing there in a crimson hoodie and a pair of dark jeans was the woman who had been unknowingly torturing him for so many months he’d lost count now. 

“Hi,” she said slowly as she took one tentative step into his room. “Natasha said you were in… I thought I’d…” Wanda looked to the floor and sighed. “Steve. I need you.”

His heart stuttered and Steve leaned forward on the sofa.

“I need your help,” Wanda quickly continued and by now her agitation had become so evident to Steve he felt shameful for even thinking she could mean anything else. “It is a lot to ask, I know. We are not… We are not friends anymore and I am no longer an Avenger but I...” 

“What is it, Wanda?” Steve asked gently.

She pulled out a folded letter from her pocket and handed it to Steve. “I received this early this morning. That was why I came to Tony’s place. I was hoping to speak to you but you… I don’t know who it’s from. There is no return address and it is type so it is impossible to trace but if there is even a chance, Steve, I need to know.”

He glanced away from her face to read the letter carefully.

“Sweet Maximoff,” he read out loud. “Did you think your family died with your brother? I can tell you you’re wrong. I can give you what your heart desires most - a grandmother to call your own - or I can tear it apart. The choice is yours. You have until Sunday to meet me at the church…” Steve paused and looked up. “Grandmother?” 

Wanda closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. “My father’s mother. We never met her. She disowned my father when he moved to the city but Pietro and I… We thought she had died a long time ago.” 

“How can you be so sure it’s really her?” Steve asked and Wanda pulled out something else from her pocket to hand to him. The discolouration of the material was so great that he had to squint to make out the image but there was no denying that there in the grainy centre was a little Wanda in an older woman’s arms. 

“I don’t even…” Wanda’s voice broke and she cleared her throat to keep going. Steve longed to comfort her but he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t just fling him into the wall. “It says in Sokovian on the back ‘ _my little starshine_ ’, which is what my father used to call me. Steve... it’s her.”

“I’ll find her, Wanda,” he said after a moment -- the plans already whirring into action in his mind, but with it also came the duty he was bound to uphold that always seemed determine to ruin him. “But you know I can’t let you come with us.” 

Wanda’s brows furrowed momentarily before she nodded. “Natasha informed me.” 

“I wish I could,” Steve told her. “But you have been out of training for three months and it is already Thursday.”

“And I would be putting the team at risk,” Wanda finished. “Steve, I know and I don’t blame you for this decision. Just promise me you’ll find her.”

“I…” 

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered -- and Steve in that moment knew he would promise her and do everything in his power to fulfill it. 

“I promise.” 

\-----

By Friday evening, the Avengers were already on their way to Sokovia, headed for the church where her parents first married. Wanda should be with them. She should be on that quinjet, outfitted and ready to go, but because of her decisions she couldn’t. She knew it was stupid to regret the past three months, not when she had learned so much and seen so much, but Wanda did regret it. She regretted letting her anger at Steve pull her away from the team. She regretted pushing him away when what she really needed was to have him close by - to have him there when she needed advice, or just someone to talk. The truth was Wanda regretted never apologising. She had pushed him into a difficult decision. Who was she to claim Steve as hers and hers alone? He had a team to think about. She wasn’t anyone special and Steve choosing the team over hers was the right move. 

When he returned, Wanda would apologise. She’d tell him that she’d have him in any capacity, even if it was only as her captain. She didn’t want to regret any more of her life. 

God, she shouldn’t be sitting here in her empty flat trying to study. She should be there with them. What use were her powers if she couldn’t even protect the people she loved? 

Wanda groaned and rubbed at her temples to dispel the headache but it continued to worsen as the hour goes by. Her phone buzzes on her desk and Wanda quickly opens the text message, hoping it’s from Steve or Natasha. 

‘ _Hey, I could bring Chinese if you need a study break._ ’ 

The text was so mundane it should fill Wanda with great pleasure to know normalcy wasn’t such an unachievable goal for her but seeing it now in contrast to everything going on in her life only made her angry. She knew it wasn’t Pete’s fault. He was just trying to be a good friend, as he has been for the past three months, but she’s angry all the same. 

With her fingers tapping furiously against the screen of her phone, Wanda barely missed the _swish_ sound of an envelope being slid underneath her front door. For that fraction of a second, she was frozen, startled and alarmed at what it could mean, but almost immediately after, Wanda was on her feet, scrambling towards the door and yanking it open. 

Only there was no one outside in the corridor. No one in the elevators. No one on the fire escape. It was almost as if they had disappeared into thin air. 

Wanda rushed back into her apartment and ripped the letter from the envelope. 

_Sweet Maximoff,_

_Did you think I wouldn’t know? Did you think you could send the Avengers in your place?_

_If you want to see your friends ever again, you will be at that church Sunday evening._

_Yours truly,_

_M._


End file.
